


The Dress

by TheOtherXOPrincess



Category: Glee
Genre: Adventure & Romance, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Alternate Universe - Road Trip (kinda), Dresses, European setting, F/M, Fashion & Couture, Fashionista!Mercedes, M/M, Mercedes Has a Sister, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Samcedes is Endgame, Wedding Dress Chaos, celebrity wedding
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-30
Updated: 2021-02-12
Packaged: 2021-03-06 22:28:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 49,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26166412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheOtherXOPrincess/pseuds/TheOtherXOPrincess
Summary: Mercedes Jones spends romantic days in the city of love with her boyfriend, sure that he will propose to her any moment. But during a candlelight dinner underneath the Eiffel Tower, he does something else-  he breaks up with her!But Mercedes has no time to mourn for her loss, her happily engaged sister wants her to take her wedding dress from a star designer in Paris and bring it to Venice where she will marry a European celebrity in less than two days.With two annoying companions in tow, the stuck-up designer’s assistant and an attractive stranger (why did Sam Evans join them again?), Mercedes makes it her mission to arrive at her sister’s wedding in time, but of course, things go horribly wrong…
Relationships: Blaine Anderson/Kurt Hummel, Mercedes Jones/Anthony Rashad, Sam Evans/Mercedes Jones
Comments: 2
Kudos: 18





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own anything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story is based on "All Dressed Up" by Lucy Hepburn, another awesome novel.  
> Enjoy!
> 
> Oh, and this is my first Samcedes story, so please bear with me...

“You look beautiful, Mercedes.”

“So you noticed”, Mercedes smiled, feeling how she started blushing.

The restaurant was elegant and luxurious …and must also be quite expensive, just like all the elegant restaurants in Paris. A young man in tails was playing the piano, the melody sounded quite…French.

“That restaurant is beautiful as well”, she said.

Anthony nodded in agreement. “Not bad, right?”

“Thanks that you brought me to that place”, Mercedes said quietly. “I have to admit, today, you really made my dreams come true.”

Anthony just waved it off and hid his face behind the menu. Again, Mercedes needed to smile and bit her lower lip. She wondered where exactly he hid the ring.

The dishes good looking waiters were serving on giant plates were a sight to see and also smelled delicious. Anthony told her not to look at the prices, but it just wasn’t possible. But he also had whispered to her he would appreciate it if she didn’t order the Norway lobster, one of the most expensive dishes on the menu.

“Would you like to order some wine, Mademoiselle? Monsieur?” The head waiter, or maître d’ -like the French people liked to call him – wearing a tuxedo and a moustache, asked them, speaking English with a strong French accent.

Mercedes looked at Anthony. “What do you want?”

“Ermm, maybe a bottle of …red wine?”, Anthony stuttered, shrugging helplessly.

The head waiter nodded. “How about a Bordeaux, then?”

At least, its price was not making Mercedes sweat, and Anthony seemed to think the same. “Fine. We will take it.”

The waiter bowed before he left. Mercedes chuckled and touched Anthony’s hand. “Nice.”

Anthony didn’t smile back, and she knew why he was so nervous. Just like her. Mercedes’ stomach was prickling with excitement, but it must have been worse with Anthony’s. After all, it was him who must pose that particular question.

Outside, the Seine was flowing underneath the shining moon, some boats full of tourists with cameras or phones were passing by every now and then.

How picturesque.

Mercedes looked down her dress. It was a bright blue sheath dress with no sleeves that perfectly fitted to her white high heels – her favorite color.

“How did you even find that restaurant?”, she asked so that Anthony looked up from the menu again.

“Google”, he answered shortly, shrugging.

“And what did you type in so that you found it?”, Mercedes wanted to know, still smiling.

_Romantic places for a proposal? Say it!_

Finally, he put down the menu and grabbed her hands. “I wanted to do it the right way, Mercy.”

“I see.”

Her heart was beating faster. She wished Anthony would have done it sooner, after they had sat down. He would have asked her, she would have said Yes, and that would be it.

Of course, it would be it. After being a couple for three years, without grave fights, and now, their trip to one of the most romantic cities in the world?  
Mercedes would say: “Yes, Anthony, I want to marry you.”

She didn’t need to think twice about it.

In order to distract herself, Mercedes looked at the menu in front of her, trying to translate the cheaper dishes so that she knew what to order. But food was the last thing she wanted to think about.

“Good evening, Mademoiselle, Monsieur. Do you want to try the wine?” A younger waiter was standing in front of them now, looking kind of nervous when he showed them the bottle of expensive wine.

“Of course”, Anthony answered, grimacing.

Anthony had no idea whether the wine was okay or not, he was just pretending. For Mercedes, it was like the would pretend that they were all grown up, and she gave him a thumbs up. Some day, the both of them would laugh about what happened that eveni…

“Oh!”

Mercedes yelped quietly. While the waiter tried pouring some wine into Anthony’s glass, some drops landed on his suit jacket.

“Pardon, Monsieur, I am so sorry!”, the young waiter exclaimed, upset.

“My best jacket!”

Frankly speaking, it was Anthony’s _only_ jacket. Mercedes leaned over, trying to dry it with her table napkin. “That was an accident, Anthony.”

“An accident that shouldn’t happen at a fancy place like this one, right?”, he whispered to her. “Give it to me, I will pour it in myself.” He waved off the still apologizing waiter. “That’s safer.”

Mercedes stayed silent while Anthony filled her glass.

“I thought waiters in France needed to attend waiter’s school for five years so that they don’t spill wine on the costumers.”

“It’s not that bad. Things like that happen from time to time”, she answered, sighing when she looked at Anthony’s jacket closer. It was his favorite piece, dark blue and white. They had bought it together at a festival in New York.

Poor Anthony.

Usually, he wasn’t that huffy, but this evening was supposed to be special. Mercedes took a deep breath, trying to relax. This evening needed to be perfect. But when she saw how annoyed Anthony looked right now, she needed to shudder against her will.

The head waiter appeared again, apologizing one hundred times and offering to pay the cleaning of the jacket. The young waiter also didn’t stop apologizing, looking down his dress shoes while he did so, and fleeing to the kitchen after a while.

When the head waiter wanted to hit his protégé, Mercedes and Anthony flinched.

“It’s okay”, Anthony said quickly. “I will take care of it myself.” He jumped up and his chair tipped over behind him. With a forced smile, he said to his girlfriend: “I’ll be right back, Mercy. Don’t drink all the wine, okay?”

“I will try”, Mercedes said dryly, rolling her eyes.

Anthony rushed to the toilet, and Mercedes looked after him, aware that he needed time to think. He always acted like that in stressful situations: Getting away from the scene to clear his head. That’s what Anthony made a passionate photojournalist. At the beginning of their relationship, Mercedes found it thrilling to be with a dynamic man like him, always looking for exciting pictures that would change his life and make him famous and/or rich.

Mercedes took another sip of her glass. It must probably be delicious, but she was too nervous to really taste it. Again, she looked around in the room, slowly starting to feel out of place.

It was just so _frustrating_. Anthony acted aloof and irritable, and she hated it if he acted like that. Especially not at the evening where he wanted to ask her to become his wife.

 _Wife!_ What a grown-up word. Her little girl dreams where Mercedes started crying out of happiness and hugging her future husband – were just dreams. Childish fantasies. In reality, she couldn’t even remember having hugged Anthony passionately for the last time.

But she was a twenty-five year old woman now, for god's sake!  
This was real life, it was no kitschy Disney-movie.  
People got used to each other.  
Relationships changed.  
Only because Anthony and she got into a certain rhythm, only because they didn’t have so many dates lately, or didn’t _laugh_ together as much as they used to, it didn’t mean that they weren’t the right ones for each other.

Right?

But nevertheless, Mercedes was scared. If she looked at the other guests in the room, she knew immediately that she was in Paris. Couples that radiated noblesse and finesse, that talked to each other in an elegant language, with so many gestures, typically _European_ gestures.

The clothes of the women were just stunning. Mercedes _loved_ fashion, that’s why she was ecstatic when Anthony wanted to stopover at Paris while they were on their way to Mercedes’ older sister’s wedding in Venice, Italy.

That’s why Mercedes was staring at their dresses right now. A middle-aged woman sitting at the table next to her wore a costume by Chanel that just looked gorgeous. That cut, the hem – everything considered, it was so…wholesome.

While Mercedes glanced to the other costumers of the restaurant, she counted the names of the famous fashion-designers people were wearing clothes of. An Alexander McQueen scarf over there, a costume of Yves Laurent and some pumps of Prada at the table next to the exit. She even spotted a brand-new dress, designed by Antoine Décoste, a remarkable fashion designer and her idol. He was one of the top desi…

“The stains are gone.” Anthony’s voice brought Mercedes back to reality…or however those golden surroundings could be called. “I will send them the bills of the jacket’s cleaning anyway”, he huffed.

The lump in her stomach was back again, and it just got bigger.

“Please, Anthony, let it be. They have been so nice to us. As soon as we are at home, we will bring the jacket to the best cleaner of New York, I promise.”

“Okay.” Anthony grabbed his glass and downed its content all at once, not looking at her.

Mercedes shook her head, trying to suppress her anger. He wasn’t the only one who was dying of nervousness right now!

The head waiter returned, refilling their glasses as careful as if he held a newborn in his hands. “I’m so sorry again, Monsieur. Of course, that bottle is on the house.”

Anthony nodded nonchalantly, but Mercedes noticed how he bumped his hand to a fist under the table as a sign of victory. Her cheeks felt burning hot.

“Do you want to order now?”

“Later”, Anthony said, and the waiter left obediently.

“Please don’t be like that”, Mercedes couldn’t suppress that comment. She grabbed his hand that relaxed after she had touched it.

“Sorry”, he said, bowing his head a bit. “You are right.” He straightened up, looking nervous again.

 _Maybe now?_ , Mercedes thought. But Anthony didn’t move.

What if he didn’t have time to find the right ring while he went on a shopping tour this afternoon? Mercedes was sure that he wanted to buy one because he never went shopping, he only ordered things he needed on the internet. Mercedes suspicion needed to be right because he had withdrawn a larger sum of money, she had found his account statement.

What else would he need 1 500 euros for? Certainly for a proposal ring with a big diamond on it. On the other side, Mercedes would have loved to choose the ring, but…

“I wanted to take you to a special place…”

“And that’s so nice of you”, Mercedes cut him off, suddenly keen on buying time. Her heart was beating way too fast. “Everyone is only talking about Coralee’s wedding. That’s why is so cute of you to do that for me.”

Somehow, Anthony’s forehead looked sweaty, and he looked around nervously before he took a big sip of his wine. “Yes, well, I need to…”

“The perfect timing! I mean, it’s great that we have time for such a romantic evening, right? Because after our arrival at Venice, the wedding will be in full swing, and knowing my sister…”

“Mercedes…”

“Three days!” Anthony looked at her with a frown, but Mercedes just didn’t stop talking. “Coralee wants everyone to come to a wedding that will be three entire days long! But I bet she will need three days to greet all the guests Sergio invited.” She laughed exaggeratedly. _What had gotten into her?_ “597 of his closest friends! And all of them have billions on their accounts, even…”

“Mercedes?”

“Celebs, bankers, some European royals and stars – what is Sergio even? Less than a prince? Or someone like those royals of Monaco or Belgium?”

Anthony shook his head. Mercedes was aware that he didn’t listen anymore, but she continued talking. “Whatever. We will find out on Monday. Corr really wants to play Meghan Markle, she even told me that the paparazzi is following her around – can you imagine?”

“No.” He still didn’t look at her.

“You know, Anthony, I witnessed every single detail of the wedding’s preparation. I talked about everything with Corr, but not about the dress.”

“The dress…”, he said, sighing.

“Oh, I’m over it”, she explained, trying to look like she was okay. “Of course I’m over the issue with the dress. But to me, it feels like the wedding already took place. It’s such a big part of our life now. All those details! Who would have thought that the selection of chocolate covered strawberries was that important?”

Mercedes just couldn’t help it. All these words came out of her and she couldn’t stop them. She already told him all those things about the event which they both sarcastically called the ‘Celebrity Wedding of this century’. But she just needed to keep on talking.

Anthony cleared his throat loudly, and Mercedes forced herself to calm down. “So…Paris…is great, right? It’s great, Anthony. Thank you.”

That was it. She was stuck.

“I need to tell you something, Mercy.”

“Really? This evening?”

“Yes”, he answered, biting his lip. “This evening.”

“Okay. Tell me.” She looked into his dark brown, almost black eyes, as if she was searching for answers.

“You are a great girl, Mercedes.” He looked down. “And…”

“And you are a great boy, Anthony.”

“And…” He paused, avoiding looking into her eyes.

“Yes?” Mercedes held her breath.

“And that’s a wonderful dress. A really nice…color.” He shrugged helplessly.

Mercedes’ heartbeat quickened. He had no idea about fashion, but at least, he was trying. She touched his hand. “I love the color too.”

She knew how hard this was going to be for him, so she smiled softly. “It’s a classic.”

“What?” Anthony looked at her, confused.

“The dress. Jimmy Choo. I bought it on Amazon.”

Why was she talking about the dress? But most importantly: Why did _he_?

“Good job, it…suits you.”

 _He is stalling the proposal_ , Mercedes thought.

When he looked at her again, he took a deep breath. “Paris is holy ground to you, right?”

“What do you mean?”

“This is the place of all famous, living fashion designers.”

“And of the dead ones as well”, she corrected him.

“Yeah, right.”

Mercedes’ laugh was forced, Anthony didn’t join her laughter. Of course, her comment was not funny, but still.

“That’s for you, Mercy”, he whispered.

She inhaled audibly and looked at his hands. But there was no ring. Now, she was more confused than ever. “How do you mean it?”

He leaned forward. “Paris. Paris is for you.”

“Oh. Right.”

That was a complicated proposal…

“One day, you will be here. Even more famous than the best designers. I just know that.”

“Well…that’s how my plans look like, but whether they will become reality? I don’t know.”, she mumbled.

“I promised to myself that I will bring you here one day so that you can imagine how it will be.”, he said quickly. “And that’s the right moment.”

That was it.

“My last chance.”

Now, it came.

“The thing is that…”

“Anthony Rashad, will you tell me what is going on now?” Mercedes looked up, suddenly anxious. “What do you mean by ‘last chance’? Are you sick or something?” She held her breath, feeling how she slowly panicked.

He looked her in the eyes, shaking his head. “No, I am not sick.”

“And what else do you want to tell me?”

Did all proposals start like that?

“I will leave, Mercy.” For a while, it was like everyone had went silent at the restaurant. No breathing, no talking, no nothing.

“What?”

“I will go to California, more exactly to Los Angeles”, he croaked. “Hollywood.”

“Oh.” _What the...??_

“I just learned it myself.”

Was he serious?

Mercedes’ brain stopped working, she remembered how Anthony got working tasks all over the States, but never so far away.

“Why?”, she said, a lump was molding in her throat.

Anthony started sweating even more. “You know that I’m waiting for my big breakthrough for so long.”

“Of course, I know.” Anthony was frustrated that his career didn’t go as planned, Mercedes knew that exactly.

“Well”, he said, looking her deep in the eyes. “Now, it happened.”

“It _what?_ ” Her head started spinning.

“You still remember George?”

“Yes?”

“He needs me for a project.”

“Does he?” Why was she speaking with sentences that were not longer than three words? But her brain was not able to produce more than that right now.

Anthony nodded. “Do you know Leonard Hayes, that Avantgarde artist?”

“No.” She frowned, wishing that he would stop beating around the bush. “Sorry, Anthony, but you know, you don’t know names like Gabbana as well.”

He nodded. “To me, Leonard Hayes is what Gabbana is to you, okay?” Mercedes laughed shortly.

“Our interest in each other’s jobs is not that big, hm?”

Anthony smiled and shrugged. “Nope.” He leaned forward. “Well, Leonard will turn hundred soon and wants to make a photo-retrospective about his life and his work.” He grinned widely. “And George wants to work with me on that!”

Mercedes frowned even more. “Anthony, since when do you know about it?”, she asked, more than confused.

Now, Anthony started staring at his fork. “Not that long. I had no time to clear my head. I just thought I would fly to Paris and…”

“And?”, Mercedes asked sharply. Something was wrong. Very wrong. “Anthony? Do you plan to leave soon?”

He leaned back on his chair and closed his eyes. “Tonight”, he whispered almost inaudibly.

Mercedes felt a pain in her heart, and she wondered whether someone just stabbed her.

“I will take the next flight to LAX.”, he croaked “George already booked me a room.”

For a moment, Mercedes was convinced that her boyfriend just told her he would fly to L.A. tonight. He wouldn’t propose to her or show up at Coralee’s wedding. _Coralee’s wedding!_ The seating arrangement! Coralee would…

“Do you want to order now?”, the waiter asked who just showed up out of nowhere.

“No!”, they shouted in unison.

“Thanks”, Mercedes added when the waiter turned on his heel and left, irritated.

“I am so sorry, Mercedes”, Anthony said, taking her hands to squeeze them.

“What about the wedding?”, she asked, still shocked and dragged her hands away.

“I can’t go”, he mumbled.

“What?!”, Mercedes yelled. “Corr will flip out! She has seating cards with golden imprinting! Almost six hundred, and yours is on the table of the bridal couple!”

“It all just happened so fast”, Anthony stuttered. “There was no good timing to tell you. I knew that I can’t go to the wedding with you, but I thought I could at least…all that…” he looked around in the restaurant.

“For…how long?”, Mercedes muttered. Slowly, she understood that Anthony would leave her for a job in California. And he left her back in Paris…

Anthony sighed and stretched before he leaned forward to take her hands again. “That’s the problem, Mercy.”

“There is another problem?”

He nodded, tortured. “I need to take the chance, it’s final. I will search for an agent and get famous in Cali.”

Mercedes just couldn’t believe it.

“I am almost twenty-nine years old, and I won’t get any younger.”

That conversation was slowly turning into a nightmare.

“In Cali, I will socialize with other artists. I will…”

“How long, Anthony?”, Mercedes repeated, her voice sounded distant.

“I don’t know.” Anthony shrugged. “As long as it will take.”

She smiled at him and wondered why she stayed so calm. Maybe, she was still shocked. “Well, well, well. You are leaving me. You are breaking up with me.”

“I’m so sorry, Mercy, but you and I, we need …space…”

“You are breaking up with me”, she repeated tonelessly.

He stayed silent, but his face expression spoke volumes.

_That evening sucked._

“I know that I should have told you sooner”, Anthony mumbled.

At that, Mercedes laughed bitterly. “You think so?”, she asked sarcastically.

“But lately, our relationship wasn’t that great, right? It’s not how it was at the beginning. I mean, you are a great girl and everything…”

“So you noticed it as well”, Mercedes hissed. To be honest, she had no idea whether to be angry or desperate.

“Of course I noticed!”, he answered. “But we want different things in life…at different places.”

He had a point, oscillating between L.A. and New York was not that easy. Suddenly, Mercedes wondered what Anthony would do with the ring. And realized that there was none. _There had never been one._

“Where have you been this evening?”, she wanted to know.

The sudden change of topic was surprising him. “Oh…erm…I bought a telephoto lens.” Mercedes had no idea what a telephoto lens even was, but she was too upset to even ask.

“I will need a good one, and here in Europe, the quality is far better even though I needed to pay a fortune.”

“Let me guess. 1 500 Euros?”

Anthony looked at her, confused.

“I saw the account statement.”

“Oh.”

Silence.  
Anthony downed his glass all at once. He seemed to be devastated, and Mercedes even took pity on him.

“Tonight?”, she whispered.

“Mercedes…”

Now, it was her turn to talk. “Listen, Anthony, I don’t know how to react. I am shocked.”

“I am so…”

“I wish you would have told me sooner … but you know what? Forget it. There is no right timing for moments like this one.”

“Our time together was great.” Anthony was down, even more than the young waiter that had spilled the wine.

Mercedes felt how her face expression softened. “Yes, that’s true.”

The head waiter appeared behind Anthony, looking quite impatient.

“Shall we eat now?”

“Eat?”

“You know, what people normally do at restaurants.”

Mercedes shook her head, and Anthony nodded in agreement. “Sorry”, he said to the head waiter “But we have to leave. I want the bill for the wine. No, wait. It’s on the house, right?”

Suddenly, the waiter looked downright…outraged. “You, Monsieur, cause nothing but trouble! If you make a reservation at my restaurant, I expect from you that you pay for that!”

“Run!” Anthony took Mercedes by the arm and dragged her to the exit.

“Anthony!”, Mercedes wheezed, took her purse and rushed to the exit, passing chic Parisians that knew how to act better than them.

They ran down the street, the waiter followed them down the stairs, and Mercedes was glad that she didn’t know enough French curse words to know what he called after them. They stopped after they had turned around several corners, sure that nobody had followed them.

Breathless, Mercedes looked at Anthony and saw him smile. “You are one of a kind, Anthony Rashad.” She looked him deep in the eyes. “I cannot believe that you do that to me.”

“I am sorry.”

“I know.” She breathed out audibly and looked back to the restaurant. “But we should go farther away in case someone calls the police.”

They went along the shore of the Seine, the scent of the metropolis was surrounding them, just like the warm August -breeze. For a while, they looked like all the other couples in love that took a walk in the most romantic city of the world. Mercedes linked arms with him, wanting to walk to their shared vacation apartment.

But Anthony looked at her, pulling away softly. “I will go this way”, he said, pointing at the other direction. “The flight…”

Mercedes felt her heart ache. “Oh. Of course. But what about your clothes?”

“I sent them to the airport before we left.”, he confessed, looking down his shoes. That small detail hurt so much more than everything he had said before. Mercedes blinked back her tears. “That’s why the room was so clean”, she commented harshly. “Obviously, you planned everything. You even dare saying that to my face right no…”

He took her face in his hands and kissed her, slowly and softly. Mercedes wanted to push him away at first, but then, she remembered that is was going to be their last kiss. So she reciprocated the kiss, relishing the last moments they had.

“Take care, Mercy”, Anthony choked out. “Thanks for three wonderful years.”

All she could do was nod.

“Oh, and concerning Coralee’s wedding”, he went on. “Tell her how sorry I am. And wish her, you know, the usual blessings.” His eyes shimmered with unshed tears.

“Yeah”, Mercedes nodded.

“Goodbye”, he said, tears were running down his face. He turned away, going to the subway station, or _metro_ station, as the Europeans liked to call it.

 _I thought that I would end this evening with a fiancé and a ring on my finger_ , Mercedes thought, feeling numb _. Instead, I am single_.

Trembling, she breathed out. _And what now?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Am I the only one who keeps on thinking about "What Now" by Rihanna after reading the last sentence?  
> lol


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay, another update! I don't know when I will upload the next chapter, though...
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own anything.

Lovers that went along the shore of the Seine weren’t romantic to Mercedes anymore. As if on cue, the couple in front of her stopped and kissed passionately. Mercedes needed to make a wide berth to not walk into them and almost tipped over in her high heels.

An elder couple with a chihuahua looked so happy that Mercedes glared at them.

A man selling flowers offered to all the couples a rose, winking. When Mercedes passed him, he backed away.

But Mercedes was too upset to care.

_Who would kill the spiders in my bathtub?  
I need to search for a new apartment, the rent is too high for one person only.  
Coralee will flip out, her seating arrangement is flawless.  
What will mom say?  
Who will help me with the zipper of my maid of honor dress?_

Anthony just left her life. She still waited for her breakdown, but maybe, she was too numb for that. Yes, Anthony was almost four years older than her, but he still acted immature, more immature than her. He wore skinny jeans to grandpa shirts, a fresh haircut to beard stubbles, drank champagne to chicken nuggets.

“Anthony?”, she shouted, turning around. But there was no Anthony far and wide. She stumbled back to the direction of the metro station, maybe she could catch up with him?

What if Mercedes would follow him to L. A.? Or at least visit him after Anthony had settled down? What if he really was the right one, and she was too dumb to notice?

While she walked along the shore, Mercedes tripped in her high heels and heard how her dress ripped.

“Mademoiselle!”

The man with the flowers and a few bystanders rushed over to her, helping her up. Overwhelmed with the friendliness, Mercedes started crying. “I’m sorry, I think I’m fine now. _Merci beaucoup_ , thank you…”

Sobbing, she sat down on a bench and looked at her dress. It was not that bad, she could patch it up easily. But she couldn’t imagine that she would wear it ever again.

Her break-up-dress.

Mercedes wiped away the tears and slowly got up. _My heart is not broken_ , she kept on telling herself. _It’s just…ripped. Like my dress. And I can repair it, right?_

She turned around and went back to her apartment, high heels in hand. One hour ago, Mercedes thought that she would get engaged, but now, it was like it was the dream of another young woman.

Instead, Anthony had dumped her in the worst way, and she was alone and not engaged. She didn’t even have a boyfriend anymore.

 _Weird_ , she thought. _I am free. What am I doing now?_

First, she needed to go to Coralee’s wedding, all alone and head held high. After that, she would return to her apartment in New York and cry all day. Because Anthony was gone.

When her phone rang, all Mercedes could think was Anthony. Anthony who regretted what he had done and wanted her back. Hectically, she searched through her bag. When she didn’t find it, she dumped the entire content of the purse onto her bed, and her phone appeared between lip-glosses and fake lashes.

Mercedes took the phone, looked at the display and…

…it wasn’t him.

Coralee’s dumb face was grinning at her. Mercedes took a deep breath, preparing herself to answer the call. It was the fourth one this evening, and she wondered what must be that important.

But she couldn’t tell her about Anthony, that was out of question. If she did, Coralee would start crying like madly, most likely because of the ruined seating arrangement.

Sighing, Mercedes answered, the call. “Hey, Corr, how is it going?”, she said, surprised how normal she sounded.

“Mercyyyy!”, her sister started whining loudly, and Mercedes needed to hold the phone far away from her ear.

“Are you drunk?”, she asked incredulously.

“Mercyyy, everything goes wrong!”

Nope, Coralee wasn’t drunk. She was just crying hysterically, which wasn’t better.

“Corr…what the hell happened?”

“Everything goes wrong! My biggest nightmare came true! I can’t bear it!” Coralee’s sobbing became quieter. Maybe she had dropped the phone so that she could concentrate on crying. The biggest nightmare? Did both Jones girls get dumped on the same evening?

“What did he do to you?”, Mercedes growled. She didn’t even know Sergio and hadn’t decided yet whether he was good enough for her sister – apart from the arguments that he was stinking rich and even more attractive than an Abercrombie model.

Instead of answering, Coralee just sobbed.

“You are better off without him, Corr”, she said, thinking about the words she would tell herself in the next months. “I know that you already planned a future with him, but we will create you a better one. Even if he is richer than Zuckerberg, well, screw that…” When Mercedes thought about Coralee’s fiancé, she scowled.

She never met him personally, but she had seen him in enough celebrity magazines.

“Whatever he had done, we will get it right again. I mean, who needs a billionaire?”

“Done to me?”, Coralee answered, and calmed down a bit. “Don’t play dumb, Mercedes!”

“But you just said…”

“Sergio didn’t do anything to me!”, Coralee laughed. “He is the most perfect fiancé of the world. Without him, I wouldn’t be better off.” She sounded upset.

“Oops, sorry” Mercedes hoped that Coralee would be too busy to remember what she just said about the love of her life.

“It’s my…” Coralee suppressed a sob before she continued whining. “It’s my…It’s my dress! It’s not here!”

“What?!”, Mercedes screamed. She couldn’t be serious.

Horrible.

A catastrophe.

“Why not? Where the hell is it??”

“The courier who was supposed to bring it to Venice called and told me that…” Coralee sobbed.

“Coralee?” Mercedes needed to sit down. “Has it been stolen?” That dress was worth a couple of thousand Euros. It was the creation of a genius. Maybe there will be a ransom demand which they would pay, of course.

“No, no theft.”

At least something.

“The courier didn’t get the dress at Antonio Décoste’s boutique!”

Mercedes couldn’t imagine why. “Did he look like a criminal or were his hands dirty? That would explain…”

“No! Because…because it hadn’t been finalized!”, Coralee continued sobbing.

“You are kidding me, right?”, Mercedes said breathlessly.

“I wish. They knew the appointment and how important it was. Last week when I tried it on, it looked great!” Coralee screamed. “Important and powerful people are going to be there, and I have no fucking dress! I can as well kill myself!”

“No you won’t”, Mercedes said more harshly than she wanted to. “At least not immediately. Do you know more? We still have four days left…”

Coralee didn’t answer immediately, and Mercedes could hear her sob. “They said that the dress is done, but I missed the time slot for my courier.”

Okay, they could work with that.

But Coralee wasn’t done ranting. “The courier said that he can take the dress tomorrow in the afternoon, and he would deliver it on Monday!”

“Monday!”, Mercedes exclaimed. “But that’s …”

“The day of the wedding!”, they shouted in unison.

“Are they nuts?”, Mercedes asked.

Coralee didn’t listen, she continued talking. “Do they think I will lean back and say: Great, deliver the dress whenever it suits you, at the day of the wedding…” She sighed, again and again.

“I thought they were more professional”, Mercedes agreed, suppressing the comment that it never would have happened if she had designed and sewed the dress herself.  
But that ship had already sailed.

And until now, Mercedes had agreed that Coralee’s decision to choose Antoine Décoste as the designer of her wedding dress was great. After all, he owned one of the world’s most famous boutiques. And even though he had beaten Mercedes at the fight for this job, he was still one of her biggest idols.

During her last year while studying fashion designing at the Pratt Institute, she wrote her bachelor’s thesis about him. And if Sergio could afford a star designer like Décoste that made a bride dress for his fiancée, well, so be it.

Because Mercedes was over it. _Entirely. Over. It_.

“You know what, Mercy?”, Coralee sobbed.

“What?”

“At the opposite of the chapel, they already closed everything so that no paparazzi or onlookers can enter.”

“What? Are you kidding? Sounds creepy.”

Coralee once told her Sergio Bellucci was something like a star in Italy, or all over the Europe, but Mercedes didn’t really realize it. Yes, she loved fashion and couture, but she had never been a fan of gossip.

“Creepy is not the right word”, Coralee said shrilly. “And what if he won’t arrive in time? The courier could get into an accident. Or what if it doesn’t fit me? There will be no time to change it. Creepy? That’s an _apocalypse_! 597 friends and family members of Sergio, Mercy – most of them will come by helicopter or private jet. And I don’t know anybody…”

“Okay, we will find a way to solve the problem if we stay calm...”

“I can’t calm down!”, Coralee cried. “My life is over. What will Sergio say? If the dress doesn’t fit or there is no dress, I will make a fool out of me. Internationally!”

Mercedes really hoped that Sergio loved her sister for who she was not for what the press thought of her dress.

“What shall I do now? Go to the altar in jeans and a T-Shirt?”

Taking a deep breath, Mercedes said: “Okay, Corr, we will …”

“…kill ourselves?”, she whined.

“Not yet, I already told you”, Mercedes grinned. “Shall I take the dress and bring it to Venice?”

“How the hell do you want to do that?”, Coralee asked, stopping with the sobbing.

“Well…I’m in Paris.”

Silence.

Of course, Coralee was too busy to remember Mercedes’ and Anthony’s date in the city of love.

“But I know that”, Coralee said faintly.

“Of course you do” Mercedes needed to smile. “Would it help? I can take the dress and bring it with me if I fly to Venice tomorrow morning. You can hug it in the afternoon. Problem solved!”

Again, silence, and Mercedes needed to gulp.

“I…think that…that would be okay…”

“You don’t trust me…”

Coralee sighed. “It’s not that…”

“Of course not.” Mercedes rubbed her forehead and gritted her teeth. Her sister still didn’t trust her, after all those years.

“It’s just”, Coralee said slowly “You and I, we have a…prehistory with dresses, right?”

Now, Mercedes got mad. “What? How many years do I have to listen to that bullshit? Maybe you should mention the musical boxes, we also have a prehistory with those things.”

“Mercedes…”

“Ancient stories! Just forget my suggestion, okay?”

Now, she had wrapped her sister around the finger. Coralee sighed deeply. “I am sorry, sweetie, seriously. Blame it on my condition as the bride.”

“Bride-zilla condition”, Mercedes muttered.

“I heard that.”

That was the point. “So…Do you want me to bring the dress? If yes, I have to take it this evening and take the flight tomorrow morning. Would it help?”

“Yes, yes please. It really would help. Yes.”

The relief in Coralee’s voice made Mercedes’ face expression soften. What an evening! A failed engagement. An unexpected break up. And her sister that didn’t find her trustworthy – great, just great.

“Thanks, Mercy. Thanks a lot.” Mercedes could hear how she beamed. “I will call Décoste and tell him you are on your way. Alright? You can drive to him now, right?”

Actually, Mercedes just wanted to bury herself in her bed and cry all night long.

“You need the address…”

Mercedes sighed and sat up. “I know where it is. This afternoon, I looked at the mannequins of his boutique from outside and drooled.”

“Nice imagination, sister.” Coralee laughed.

Okay, Mercedes was tired and felt horrible, but she realized that she would meet her idol in the paradisiac world of Haute Couture, in less than fifteen minutes!

The great _Antoine Décoste!_

“Oh, and Mercedes?”

_Now she will tell me to defend the dress with my life._

“Yes?”

“You will defend the dress with your life, okay?”

Mercedes rolled her eyes. “I will keep the dress next to me in the airplane or fly with all the suitcases…just for you.”

“Great. Oh, and Mercy?”

Shaking her head, Mercedes said: “You are welcome, Corr.”

After she had hung up, Mercedes checked whether her make up was still okay before she left the apartment again. Because she was on her way to Antoine Décoste!

The thought alone made her feel woozy.

_I really shouldn’t be happy, after all, I just got dumped._

But whatever, tomorrow, she had enough time to cry in the airplane on her way to Italy. She just couldn’t be sad at a city like Paris with all her idols.

Dior!  
Vuitton!  
Chanel!  
Décoste…

Antoine Décoste was a tall middle-aged man with black-greyish and gelled back hair and a moustache. That’s what Mercedes knew from Vogue. She also knew that he spoke five languages, and luckily, English was one of them.

Mercedes felt how her stomach started prickling with excitement and she thought about what she would say to him.

 _So, Mr. Décoste –_ no, that was wrong _– So, Monsieur Décoste, I have a degree in fashion designing and I’m dreaming of owning a boutique like yours one day, may I pose you some questions? For years, I am a passionate – no, devoted - admirer of your work. Would you agree to what the other admirers say that your works get better and more successful from year to year?_

_The works of the past five years were the best of the best! Oh, and may I send you my CV and some sketches?_

_And…And…you are fabulous._

Too much?  
A couple of years ago, she wrote an entire work about him. If only she had the folder now!  
When Mercedes arrived at his boutique, she got more excited. Even the building alone looked like a true artwork. Her phone vibrated, and she flinched.

Was it Anthony?

No, it wasn’t, it was Coralee. Mercedes smiled and put it back into her purse. Gathering herself, she went up the stairs and rang the doorbell.

_Be confident. Smile. Be elegant and professional. Don’t make a fool out of yourself._

The door was opened by a white-haired small woman with a black dress.

“Miss Jones?”, she asked with a strong French accent.

Mercedes nodded. “Mercedes.”

“Please, enter.”

“Thanks. You have a beautiful door.”

What a dumb comment! Mercedes felt like an idiot, and she only spoke to Décoste’s assistant. Inside, it smelled like perfumed candles, fresh hem and Belgian marble floors. She would like to breathe in this perfection of a scent forever.

Yes, that was the world she wanted to belong to. If only she could spend one day here, alone. Or scratch that, her entire life!

She offered the old woman her hand. “My name is Mercedes.” _You already said that._ Gosh, she could slap herself.

“Geneviève, _ma petite chère_ ”, the woman said, squeezing her hand.

“Ermm, Monsieur Décoste is going to get the dress for my sister?”

The woman shook her head, shrugging. “Monsieur left a couple of hours ago, Mademoiselle. His assistant will take care of it.”

“Oh…” Of course, a powerful man like Décoste didn’t have time to meet someone as unimportant as Mercedes. But she couldn’t quite hide the disappointment in her voice. “I hoped that I would meet him.”

Geneviève cocked her eyebrows, surprised, and Mercedes wondered how many more disappointments this evening held in store for her.

“Oh, erm…sorry – thanks that you are here.”

Before she could think of something else to say, another voice cut her off. “Oh! There she is. The wonderful sister of wonderful Coralee Jones!” Startled, Mercedes turned around and saw a guy walk towards her, dressed to kill. “Engaged to the marvelous Sergio Bellucci! _Bienvenue_ , Mademoiselle!”, he gushed, speaking English with a British accent.

Before Mercedes could even blink, he had already taken her by the shoulders and kissed her on both cheeks. “You and your sister, you really look alike. So beautiful and pure.”

Ermm… _what?_

Crossing her arms, she eyed the man in front of her. He looked quite attractive with his pale complexion, his blue eyes and his brown hair. He looked like he was in his mid-twenties and slightly older than her, maybe around Coralee’s or Anthony’s age.

“I am Kurt Hummel, Antoine Décoste’s… personal assistant.”, he explained, pronouncing the last words weirdly.

Did Mercedes just imagine, or did he and Geneviève just exchange glances? Europeans were weird.

“You don’t sound…”

“French?”, Kurt cut her off, smiling amusedly. “My mother is from Paris, but my dad is from Yorkshire, UK, where I grew up as well.”

“Oh.” Skeptical, Mercedes narrowed her eyes.

“I was honored to assist Monsieur Décoste while he designed the bride dress of the fiancée of Signor Sergio Bellucci. What a wonderful man!”

“Wonderful, yes…you already said that”, Mercedes muttered. She was not in the mood to hear those peans of Monsieur Décoste’s assistant about her brother in law. He made it sound like Sergio was no man but an institution.

“Thanks that you waited for me”, Mercedes said, forcing herself to smile. How could she be so naïve to think that she would meet Antoine Décoste? It was embarassing.

“It’s my pleasure. I will go get the dress, wait an instant.” He turned on his heel and went to a door with the plaque “Privé”.

Once Kurt had left, it was silent inside the hall, thanks to the soundproof walls of the building.

“Do you also design clothes?”, Mercedes asked Geneviève to break the uncomfortable silence.

 _“Moi?”_ Geneviève laughed. “ _Non_ , I’m just the cleaning lady, _ma petite_ _chère_.”

“Oh, okay.” Mercedes nodded slowly. In America, cleaning ladies never wore leather pumps, pearl necklaces or expensive looking sheath dresses. “It must be nice working here.”

Geneviève smiled friendly and nodded. Mercedes looked around, spotting several mannequins. If only she could come closer to have a look at them…

The cleaning lady looked at her, still smiling.

“Do you think I can…”

 _“Non”_ , Geneviève explained softly but still insistent. “I am sorry, but please do not touch anything. Every single piece is expensive and can’t get dirty.”

“It was worth a try.” Mercedes sighed.

“These are special pieces of work”, Geneviève said.

“I understand.”

“I understand you too.”

“What is your favorite piece?”, Mercedes couldn’t help but ask.

“Each piece of this collection is equally important to Monsieur Décoste, Mademoiselle.”

That was not enough for Mercedes. She wanted more insider information, at least breadcrumbs.

“Which one did take the longest to design? This seam, for example, was well fabricated…”

“The house of Décoste has a lot of years of experience concerning the handling of noble materials”, Geneviève cut her off impatiently.

Mercedes shrugged, agreeing. “Of course.”

“Do you have a passion for fashion?”, Geneviève asked, appeased.

“I have a passion for _quality_ ”, Mercedes answered, realizing how snobby that just sounded. But that was the only way she could describe it.

Finally, Kurt came back, with a weird face expression. Mercedes got a bad premonition. “Is there a problem?”

“I searched everywhere.” Kurt rubbed his forehead and sighed deeply. “I can’t find the dress.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own anything.

“What?” Mercedes took a deep breath. “It has to be somewhere!”

She went towards the clothes on the mannequins which were still covered in plastic bags.

Kurt and Geneviève followed her quickly, looking like they were ready to throw her to the floor in case she even dared to touch one of the exquisite pieces.

“Please, Mademoiselle!”, Geneviève shouted.

“I am sure that Signor Bellucci’s dress is not here”, Kurt agreed. “That would be crazy!”

“How do you know?”, Mercedes shouted back. “It’s not where you thought it is, so we will search where we don’t expect it. And by the way, it’s not Signor Bellucci’s dress, it’s my sister’s dress!”

With that, she had a look at several pieces, checking whether they were the lost dress. She didn’t need to turn around to know that Kurt and Geneviève flinched everytime she touched anything, but she couldn’t care less.

When Mercedes looked at the price tag of one of the dresses, she gasped for air. _4 000 euros,_ so almost _4 800 dollars…_

She just needed to have a closer look at it. The silk felt soft when she touched it, everything was perfectly fabricated. The cut-out was heart-shaped, the dresses’ color was white with an orange twinge. It was a masterpiece of plainness.

“It’s beautiful”, a soft voice next to her said and Mercedes flinched. Geneviève was standing next to her. “But we already stated that it isn’t the wedding dress of your sister, right?”

Mercedes turned away, reciprocating Geneviève’s smile. Kurt retrieved some keys from his blazer’s pocket. “I’m going to search for it at the warehouse, it’s right behind the boutique.”

“Okay.”

For some reason, Mercedes wanted to talk to her mother now, so she retrieved her phone from her purse. When Kurt saw her phone, he froze. “Please”, he said quickly “Don’t tell Sergio Bellucci. We will get this right.”

“Don’t worry”, Mercedes answered shortly, cocking her right eyebrow. Why did all Europeans, especially this guy, act like her future brother-in-law was some kind of god?

Turning away, she dialed the number of her mother.

“Hello?”, a voice on the other end of the line said, sounding kind of sleepy.

“Sorry, mom, did I wake you up?”

“Oh, it’s you, Mercy! No, I am always happy whenever you call me.”

Phyllis Jones, Coralee’s and Mercedes’ mother, moved to Milano, Italy three years ago, shortly after she and the girls’ father got divorced because he had cheated on her repeatedly. It had been a horrible time, and Mercedes didn’t really stay in touch with her dad who had never been there for her.

But she and her mom skyped regularly because New York wasn’t really around the corner and they couldn't visit each other that often.

“Are you okay? You sound tired…” Mercedes kneeled down and looked underneath one of the golden sofas for the dress.

“I am tired”, Phyllis answered after a while “But I am fine, I was just very busy lately, you know.”

“Coralee is running us ragged, right?”

When her mother answered, Mercedes didn’t really listen because she had to think about Anthony. Phyllis didn’t know that he ended their relationship. Whether Mercedes should tell her about it? _No_ , she decided, _not yet_. The following days belonged to Coralee only. Besides, Mercedes needed to sleep over it one night. Maybe she should tell her mother about it face to face, pretending that it had been a mutual decision.

Nobody would listen to her anyway during Coralee’s pompous wedding. After everything would be over, Mercedes could break down on the quiet.

Yeah, that was a great plan.

“How is Paris?”, her mother asked at this moment.

“At least you remember it”, Mercedes couldn’t help but say. “Coralee is so busy with herself, she forgot it.”

“You need to understand her.” Phyllis sighed. “She is marrying in three and a half days; she is elsewhere with her thoughts.”

Mercedes suppressed a snort. Of course. Her mother sided with Coralee, like she always did. She slumped down on the sofa and rubbed her forehead. “Probably.” _Take a deep breath and tell her._ “Listen, mom, something bad happened.”

“Oh no, what happened?”

“It’s the dress”, Mercedes answered, expecting an explosion-like reaction.

“And?”

“When the courier wanted to take it, it wasn’t finalized. Coralee flipped out, she thought she needed to marry in jeans.”

“Well, that won’t happen, will it?” Her mother’s voice sounded calm and patient, almost bored.

“Anyway, she was panicked, but I offered to get the dress and bring it with me tomorrow.”

“Oh, that’s great. That seems to be the best solution.” Phyllis didn’t seem to be so impressed by Mercedes’ heroic act. “Good that you and Anthony are in France. How is he, by the way? Did you bore him to death with your sightseeing tour about all those designers?”

Hurt by the lacking interest, Mercedes wanted to change her mind and tell her about the breakup and how her sister would beat the living crap out of her because of the ruined seating arrangement…

“Paris is wonderful”, she said instead, pretending she had overheard the part with Anthony. “But you never guess where I am now.”

“On the Eiffel Tower?”

“Nope!”

Mercedes waited that her mom tried guessing again, but she didn’t seem to be in the mood. “I am at Monsieur Décoste’s boutique!”

She stayed silent, waiting for Phyllis’ reaction. But nothing happened.

“His assistant is searching for the dress”, she went on, slightly disappointed.

Still no reaction.

“It just disappeared. And I don’t know what to do.”

Nothing.

“They can’t find it anywhere. Coralee will throw a fit.”

“I am sure it will reappear.”

“Mom! And if it doesn’t? That’s a catastrophe!”

Her mother snorted disdainfully. “It’s not the end of the world, right? If it won’t be found, Coralee will buy a new one in Venice tomorrow. There are beautiful dresses everywhere.”

“ _Mom!_ ” Phyllis could as well suggest killing puppies to make a new dress out of their fur. “ _How_ can you say that?”

“It’s just a dress, baby.”

“ _Just a dress?!_ Mom! It’s unique, designed by…”

“There are more important things in life than fashion, Mercedes!”

That hurt.  
If her mother made bad comments about fashion, Mercedes’ passion, it felt like she had been stabbed or something. She didn’t dare to speak.

“Baby, I didn’t mean it like that”, her mother broke the silence, sounding appeased. “It’s just…I am nervous because of the wedding. That’s all.”

That was new. “Really?” That was very unlike her mother. “When are you driving to Venice?”

“Tomorrow, hopefully.”

Hopefully? Did her mother have an appointment or something? Before she could ask, Antoine’s assistant returned – with empty hands.

“Okay, I will call you tomorrow again…” Mercedes gulped. “Mom?”

“Bye, Mercy.”

“See you.”

Geneviève who had waited next to the door crossed the room, phone in hand which she handed Kurt. The latter sighed deeply when he said: “Seems like I have to call Antoine.”

“Hallelujah! Thank god!”, Mercedes exclaimed relievedly, but Kurt wasn’t listening. He didn’t seem to be so thrilled about it.

“He is visiting a relative at Saint-Tropez and won’t be glad about the disturbance. He is a man who- how shall I put it – has no problems with delegating the responsibility.”

“A sign for management skills”, Mercedes commented, lost in thought. Listening to Kurt talk about her hero made her forget the weird conversation with her mother.

She imagined working here, getting more talented and experienced, getting a promotion and being allowed to show her own ideas to the world, with Décoste’s help. And eventually – _finally_ – she would establish herself, found her own Label, with the blessing of her friend and mentor Antoine Décoste…

Kurt looked at her in a strange way. “If you say so.” He stared at his phone begrudgingly before he dialed the number of his boss. And Mercedes wondered why it was such a big deal to call him. After all, Antoine Décoste was no fire-spitting tyrant that got angry whenever someone disturbed him.

While they waited for Antoine to pick up, Mercedes realized that Kurt was eyeing her up and down. Agitated, she crossed her legs and turned away. In the meanwhile, Kurt had motioned Geneviève to come over, whispering to her: _“Ma couture cas, s’il vous plait.”_

Geneviève nodded and went to a desk on the other side of the hall, retrieving a small bag out of leather from one of the drawers which she gave to him.

He nodded gratefully. “Antoine?”

Kurt started talking to his boss on the phone. Mercedes’s French skills weren’t good, ‘Bellucci’ and ‘Italy’ where the only words she could understand.

“ _C’est pas ici_ – it’s not here.”

Fascinated, Mercedes imagined that the great Antoine Décoste was on the other end of the line. He would solve the problem in no time. She was only one step away from her hero, only separated by his half-British, half-French assistant who had just clutched his phone between his shoulder and his head and tried…to thread a needle?

The thread was bright blue.

Whatever Antoine had just said, Kurt didn’t seem to be so happy about it because he was scowling. Mercedes tried to stay calm, but the lump in her stomach reappeared. Even if her mom didn’t share that opinion-it was a catastrophe in case the dress was lost. Every single piece of Antoine Décoste was a masterpiece, but that one- Coralee had been involved in the planning from the beginning on, and Mercedes really wanted to see it, even if she was disappointed that she didn’t design it.

Besides, Coralee would be grief-stricken, and if Mercedes ever wanted to have space for her own problems in her life again, a grief-stricken Coralee was out of question.

Still on the phone, Kurt crossed the room and sat down next to her so that their legs touched.

 _Yeah, not weird at all_. But before she could move, Kurt lifted the ripped hem of her dress and started sewing.

Mercedes was speechless. Without a doubt, that was an invasion of her privacy, but at the same time, it was really nice of him.

“ _C’est pas possible_ ”, Kurt suddenly hissed and sat up. “ _En Anglais, s’il te plaît_ ", he added before he gave the phone to Mercedes. Surprised, she took it. “Would you please talk to him? I can’t hold the phone and sew at the same time.”

He handed her the phone and kneeled down in front of her to continue sewing the dress.

Well…

Trembling, she pressed the phone onto her ear. “M…Monsieur Décoste?”, she stuttered. “I am Coralee’s sister and….and your biggest fan…”

 _Stop kissing his ass_ , she reprimanded herself. _Stop. Kissing. His. Goddamn. Ass._

“Mademoiselle, it’s a pleasure to work on that dress with your sister, her wedding dress will be a sensation all over the world!”

Mercedes’ hands were trembling. His voice was deep, full of _charme,_ just like she imagined it to be.

“I…I am admiring your work!”, she said excitedly. “It’s absolutely perfect. How thrilling that my sister chose you as her designer!”

“Thank you”, he answered while Kurt next to her feet rolled his eyes.

“You are such an inspiration!”, she went on “I…I just need to ask you something…”

“I can’t waste your precious time. I heard of the misunderstanding because of the dress of your sister.”

“Oh, yes.” Now, she felt dumb. Why did she have to annoy him with her enthusiasm?

“Like I already told Kurt”, Antoine went on calmly “The dress is at my apartment, safely preserved.”

“Oh!” Mercedes was relieved. “Great news! I couldn’t imagine that there would be a problem, Monsieur Décoste. Thanks very much for your help.”

“I didn’t want to take a risk, Mademoiselle. The wedding day of such an important man like Sergio Bellucci is important as well. Nothing can go wrong.”

Despite her excitement because she had a phone call with her idol, Mercedes frowned. She was tired of always hearing how powerful and prominent her sister’s fiancé was.

Kurt, still busy with sewing, looked up. “Would you please ask him where the key to his apartment is?”

Antoine had heard the question. “In the first drawer of my desk. And tell him to feed Lulu if he is at my place.”

Kurt stayed silent.

“Oh, and Mademoiselle?”

“Yes?”, Mercedes answered breathlessly.

“Tell my assistant that he shall accompany you to Venice and supervise the last fitting of the dress.”

“Excuse me?” Did Mercedes get that right? Was Coralee so important that she would get final adjustments of her dress? Unbelievable! She told Kurt about it.

“ _Incroyable_ ”, he muttered immediately and finalized the sewing. “He knows exactly that I will be needed in Verona this weekend. I organized it months ago and I am talking about it for weeks. I can’t fly to Venice.”

Mercedes wanted to tell Antoine, but he had already heard it.

“The house of Décoste stands for perfection for years. I would like to fly to Venice myself, but it’s not possible. Kurt has to do it instead of me if he wants to keep his job.”

Before Mercedes could open her mouth, Kurt jumped up and narrowed his eyes angrily. He must have heard what Antoine had said.

“Every piece of my boutique must be perfect”, Décoste went on with a soft voice. “I insist on that.”

“Every piece _is_ perfect”, Kurt hissed, and Mercedes looked down her knees. The last thing she wanted was getting caught in the crossfire. “And we both know it.”

“Mademoiselle”, Antoine said calmly. “My assistant will accompany you whether he wants it or not. I won’t take any risks for Signor Bellucci and his bride.”

What a claim! It was overwhelming to hear that one of the most famous designers did everything so that her sister looked perfect on her great day.

Kurt softly took the phone out of Mercedes’ hands and went to the other side of the room where he started arguing with his boss as quiet as possible.

Geneviève and Mercedes exchanged sheepish glances.

The result was more than obvious. Livid, Kurt hung up and slammed his phone on the desk before he took his coat. “I’m leaving”, he declared huffishly.

In the meanwhile, Geneviève had taken the key from the drawer and gave it to him. Sighing deeply, Kurt stopped in his tracks and turned to Mercedes. “I need to apologize for the scene you just witnessed.”

“Don’t worry”, she waved off. “I am just happy to be here – and thanks that you repaired my dress. That was nice of you.”

“No problem. It won’t take long.”

When he went towards the door, Mercedes took another step forward. “May I come with you?”

Kurt looked at her in a surprised but not unfriendly way. “Mademoiselle, I don’t think this is a good idea. I noticed that you are a big admirer …of this label and…” He didn’t continue speaking and turned away, rubbing his neck.

Mercedes felt how her cheeks heated up. For sure, he wanted to say: _There is no way that I will give a crazy enthusiast like you a private tour through Décoste’s apartment – leave me alone, American bitch!_

“You will fly to Venice tomorrow?”

Mercedes snapped out of her imagination and nodded quickly.

“In the morning?”

Again, she nodded.

“Would you please tell Geneviève the details about the flight? We will meet at the airport.”

“Will do.”

Great. The prospect to spend an entire day in the company of Décoste’s weird and _pissed_ assistant was just awesome.  
In the meanwhile, Kurt talked to Geneviève who was standing next to them like a patient, old nanny who took care of two moody and overly tired kids, writing down everything on an expensive looking notebook.

After that, Kurt strutted to the door and left.

“Don’t forget feeding Lulu!”, Mercedes shouted after him before she turned to Geneviève and shrugged depressingly. “Who is Lulu, by the way?”, she asked the cleaning lady, thinking about what a great detail it would have been for her work.

“His parrot”, she answered. “A dirty, ill-mannered bird.” She handed Mercedes a pen and a sheet of paper. “Please, I need the details of the flight.”

While Mercedes wrote them down, she could feel how she slowly got nervous. Tomorrow, she would travel to her second most favorite European state (after France), and on Monday, she would witness a professional fitting.

And she honestly couldn’t wait.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not the best chapter, I know...  
> But this is just the beginning, it will get better, I promise ;)


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is longer than usually, so enjoy ;)
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own anything

**Hours left until the wedding:** 56  
 **Miles left until Venice:** 745

“A…Are you sure? Under the name Anthony Rashad? A-n-t-h-o…”

The employee behind the counter grimaced, annoyed when she shook her head. “Mademoiselle, nobody booked a ticket under this name. And there are no cancellations either for this flight.”

“I understand. Thank you anyway.”

Although it was early in the morning, the airport was already crowded, the queue behind Mercedes got longer and longer. She sighed when she checked in and left.

Anthony never booked a ticket to Venice. How long did he already plan to ditch her in Paris and fly to California? She really felt like an idiot.

Sighing, Mercedes went to the center of the airport terminal, looking for her new traveling companion. She wouldn’t fly with her boyfriend or fiancé Anthony, but with Décoste’s moody and bad-tempered assistant.

In addition, this night had been horrible, all by herself at the apartment. While she had been awake at night, Mercedes imagined how Anthony flew over the Atlantic, leaning back on a seat of a jumbojet. Was he at least sad? Or ( and somehow, that seemed to be logical to Mercedes) did he feel like a gangster of a movie who could flee and planned his bright future where she didn’t have a place? Who laughed because he could fool her that easily?

Mercedes thought he had known him very well because three years were a long time. She always could understand his burning ambition to get rich and famous. But she never would have thought that he would be able to flee, just like that and without her noticing.

Sometimes, Anthony needed space, but she never really knew how much.

Until now, Mercedes didn’t really cry, and she wondered whether it was time to admit to herself what she felt since the break-up yesterday evening happened: _Relief_.

“Miss Jones.”

Mercedes turned around. Kurt was standing behind her with a white dress bag in his arms and a stressed face expression.

“Please”, she said. “You need to call me Mercedes.”

“ _Avec pleasure_. But only if you call me Kurt.”

“Deal.”

They looked at each other for a while, not sure what to think of each other, until a dog came over to them and the moment was over. Mercedes loved dogs so she kneeled down to pet it shortly and got up again when the owner dragged the dog away.

When she got up, she almost bumped against Kurt’s suitcase, a handmade one from Antoine Décoste’s summer cruise collection. That suitcase alone must be worth thousands of dollars…erm… _euros_.

The letters A and D had been sewed onto the suitcase, of course with golden threads of 21 carats.

“The Summer Cruise Collection”, Mercedes gasped , awestruck “How…stylish.”

Kurt just nodded shortly, and Mercedes pressed her lips into a thin line. Obviously, he was in a bad mood. This day couldn’t get any worse, right? He grabbed her by the arm, whispering: “Have you seen the weather? What a _storm_!”

Mercedes looked out of the window next to her. Yes, that storm didn’t look good at all. An elderly woman was running after her straw hat that flew away due to the wind. A cabdriver got out of the car and saved the hat, making Mercedes smile.

“Under these circumstances, they want to start the plane? That’s insane!”

When Mercedes looked out of the other window, she saw how an airplane took off without problems.

“You don’t fly that often, right?”, she asked him, smiling.

Kurt’s pale face spoke volumes. He patted Coralee’s dress in his hands softly. “For that”, he said, “I will.”

For that sentence, Mercedes started liking him.

“That’s respectable of you, Kurt. Considering that you already had other plans.”

“I am sorry for saying that I don’t want to come”, he went on. “I have – had – an important meeting at Verona. That I can’t come was shocking to me. But please don’t think that your sister’s dress isn’t equally important.”

“It’s okay.” Mercedes smiled.

“I thought Antoine would be one of the guests of the wedding and would be present for the last adjustments. This event is too important to leave it to chance. The dress must fit _parfaitement_ – everything needs to be perfect.”

Mercedes glanced to the bag with desire. “May I have a look on it?” She felt giddy at the prospect to finally see that dress.

Kurt, however, threw her a horrified glance. “ _Here?_ At such a dirty place?”

His argument was justifiable. The airport was indeed pretty crowded.

“Those little dogs! All those children! The dirty shoes!”

“Of course, that was a dumb idea” Mercedes nodded, leaning forward to him conspiratorially. “Can I at least get a hint how it looks?”

“Oh.” Kurt smirked a bit. “Don’t think you can make me tell you secrets of Monsieur Décoste’s boutique.”

“It was worth a try…”, she pouted and satisfiedly noticed that he forgot about his fear of flying.

“There is only one thing I can tell you: It’s inspired by the House of Worth.”

“No way!”, Mercedes gasped. “Charles Worth?”

“You know the designer?” Kurt looked at her skeptically.

“Know him? I love him!” Some girls her age were swooning over Justin Bieber or One Direction, but Mercedes had always liked designers like Charles Worth.

“An American girl that knows English fashion designers? I am impressed.” Kurt smiled.

“I just wish I could go back in time and watch him work”, she sighed.

Kurt looked at her compassionately. “You have never seen his works?”

“Only a few of them, at museums or in documentaries. You know what? I would have worked for him without payment, picking up needles from the floor, or whatever.”

When their glances met, Kurt smiled at her softly. “I think I will enjoy this day with you, Mercedes Jones.” He took her hand, lifted it and kissed it softly.

Mercedes was not used to such chivalric behavior and her cheeks heated up.

“Let’s go to the plane. Do you need to check in or something?”, she asked.

“Everything done, online. But are you sure that this flight won’t get cancelled because of this hurricane outside?”

“Come on”, Mercedes chuckled “It’s not even that windy. I will watch over you.”

But Kurt’s fear seemed to get bigger when she said that. “Don’t you think that it’s risky to fly during this weather? The plane will crash down as a giant fireball!”

Mercedes who found flying romantic – well, until Anthony ditched her the night before – laughed. “Listen, the probability of meeting your future spouse is higher than to get killed in a plane crash.”

While they went to the security check, Mercedes looked down his hand, wondering whether he was still single. But she didn’t dare to ask, after all, she embarrassed herself enough when she swooned over his boss on the phone.

But curiosity killed the cat.

“Are you married?”

“No”, Kurt answered, looking at the entry of the plane with horror.

Mercedes hoped that this detail wouldn’t make this trip more complicated. Romantically.

They went to the queue of the security check that slowly moved onwards. In the front, an attractive and young flight attendant was standing, talking to the travelers, telling them to which gate they had to go, chatting with passengers and making kids laugh by telling them jokes.

An elder woman, also a flight attendant was waiting for him impatiently, scowling.

“Blaine, we need to go on board!”, she shouted in English, and Mercedes was surprised. Until she realized that this was an Italian airline where everyone spoke English while working.

But Blaine had already looked at the other passengers of the queue - and spotted Kurt. And Kurt spotted Blaine.

It was more than obvious that they were drawn to each other instantly, the atmosphere was charged up electrically.

Mercedes’ mouth opened, forming an o-shape.

 _Of course_ , she should have known it – Kurt was gay!

Every sign had been there, but she had ignored them because she had been busy with her own little problems…

Suddenly, Blaine was standing next to them. “Do you need help? Monsieur, is there something I can do for you?”

“I…I…”

Poor Kurt, he was rendered speechless. Blaine was standing so close now, their arms almost touched. Even Mercedes who was some inches away, could smell his cologne.

“That’s nice of you”, she said, smiling. “But I think we are fine.”

“You are”, Blaine said, looking at Kurt knowingly. “But I’m afraid” he pointed at the dress bag “That thing isn’t.”

“That’s the wedding dress of my sister…”

Blaine looked at the brand on the dress bag. “An Antoine Décoste? Wow.”

“That’s right”, Mercedes smiled coyly. “It’s really important.”

“Yes”, Blaine agreed while Kurt was blushing furiously. “But sadly, it’s too big to let you take it as hand baggage. We need to take it to the storage place if…”

“No!” Kurt had found his voice again.

“No, please”, Mercedes added.

Blaine looked at the bag covetously and cocked an eyebrow. “Let me suggest you something: I can take the dress during the flight. My airline will protect it like a royal highness – I will make sure of it.”

Mercedes looked over to Kurt who had started sweating a bit. “My friend Kurt is the personal assistant, executive manager and head designer of Antoine Décoste.”

Concerning the titles, she was just guessing and hoped that Kurt would forgive her. But he was about to go through hell according to his face expressions. Why couldn’t he just say anything charming?

“Whe…Where are you from?”, he finally stammered.

“My family emigrated to Moscow, but I was born in Seattle”, he explained in a deep voice that even Mercedes found sexy.

But Kurt seemed to be at a loss of words again.

“Kurt is a bit concerned because of the weather.” Mercedes smiled, feeling kind of mischievous. “Can you do something to calm him down?”

The look on Blaine’s face was telling her that he would love to. “Monsieur, I would like to…”

“Blaine! We need to leave, now!”, his female colleague barked, making clear that it was no good idea to mess with her.

Quick, Blaine retrieved a sheet of paper and a pen and wrote down his phone number. “I’m coming, Galina!”, he muttered and put the sheet into the pocket of Kurt’s blazer.

Kurt who was now the proud owner of a sexy flight attendant's number looked like he would faint any moment although he really tried to retain his composure. Mercedes had a hard time to hold back her chuckles.

“May I?” Softly, Blaine took the dress bag as if it was a newborn.

Mercedes yelped. “You will…”

“… as if it was my poodle.” While he walked away, Blaine threw Kurt a long glance, his eyes were sparkling with desire.

When Blaine turned around and entered the private section of the security check, Mercedes elbowed Kurt.

“Sooo…what was that?”

“I have no idea what you are talking about”, Kurt squeaked what made her chuckle.

“Please don’t tell me that you already have a boyfriend.”

Kurt looked away from the spot where Blaine stood a couple of minutes ago and looked at her. “What did you say again about statistics?”, he asked her quietly.

“That it’s more probable to meet your future spouse than to die in a plane – oooh…”

“That’s right!” Kurt narrowed his eyes. “Statistics? Or maybe _prophecy_?” He rubbed his forehead nervously. “I have a bad feeling about this flight”, he muttered. “How about you?”

“No, I don’t”, Mercedes insisted, but he wasn’t listening.

“You know what that means? The plane will crash down, right?”

“Hold up!”, she cut him off. “That’s just a saying.”

“I meet someone at the plane, it will crash down, easy as that.”

The reassuring effect Blaine had on him was gone while they entered the airplane. Kurt was paling even more, not even Blaine who was squeezing his arm reassuringly could calm him down.

Blaine was winking at Mercedes. “He will make it.”, he whispered.

“You are sitting next to the aisle”, she told Kurt, sitting down next to a man who was already sitting at the window. “You will have more space for your legs.”

Galina came closer and closed the hatches of the luggage racks over their seats. Kurt snapped his fingers at her direction. “Scotch, now!”, he barked, and Mercedes threw him a weird glance because of his harsh tone.

The female flight attendant threw him a killing glance that didn’t stay without consequences.

“Please, _madame_ ”, he added sheepishly. “If you have time.”

Mercedes took one of the magazines in front of her, trying to relax. Although the take-off was unspectacular and harmless, Kurt couldn’t enjoy it. He retrieved pills from his bag and swallowed one of them without a liquid.

“These pills are plant-based, they are relaxing. I always order them online from Japan. Do you want one?”, he asked Mercedes.

“No thanks.” She smiled. “I am perfectly fine.”

Kurt shrugged. “I for one don’t want to be sober in case of a disaster.”

Obviously, he didn’t think that his chance of survival was that high, so he swallowed another pill. Mercedes patted his arm. Unbelievable that it was the same, stuck-up guy she had met yesterday when she stumbled into Antoine Décoste’s atelier. She liked this version of him more.

Finally, Galina came with the Scotch and slammed it on Kurt’s table. “I am so sorry about the delay, Monsieur”, she said, but didn’t really look like she was.

Kurt downed the glass within a couple of seconds.

“Better?”, Mercedes asked him.

He nodded. “Oh, yes.”

In the next moment, his head was on her shoulder and he was fast asleep.

“Oookay…”, Mercedes mumbled, trying to find a way to sit comfortably. When she did so, she accidently hit the stranger on her right with her elbow.

“Oh, sorry – I mean _pardon_ , _lo siento_ , erm, _scusi_ …”, she tried in all the languages she knew.

“It’s okay”, the man answered and turned to her, smiling. “There is not much space in there, right?”

 _He has a nice voice, this man on my right_ , Mercedes thought. And a nice smile. However, she couldn’t really guess where he was from because of his weird accent. And although they sat next to each other for half an hour, Mercedes had only focused on Kurt and the worry about the wedding dress.

“You are right. I am practically sitting on your lap – I am sorry.”

The only thing she had seen of him was his valuable and old-school watch, a breathtaking Cartier Tank which must be worth a fortune.

Unfortunately, this beauty of a watch was overshadowed by the heinous knit sweater he was wearing – did his mother give it to him? Seriously, why were men even wearing things like that?

Mercedes glanced over to him. That guy must be her age as well, and he was not looking that bad. When their glances met, he stuck out his hand.

“Sam Evans”, he said.

“Mercedes Jones”, she said, shaking hands with him.

“Nice to meet you, Mercedes.”

“Likewise.”

In the next moment, the airplane started jolting, and she clutched the armrest. Kurt was luckily still sleeping, his head still on her shoulder.

Again, the plane jolted.

“Well, at least, I won’t get bored”, Sam muttered. “What brings you to Venice?”

“We are on the way to my sister’s wedding.”

“Sounds nice”, he answered. “A small wedding within the family and the closest friends?”

Mercedes rolled her eyes. “Not really.”, she said. “Her fiancé is the Italian version of Prince Harry, and as far as I know, the wedding will be quite the event.”

“And you don’t like it?” He smirked, adding: “Sorry, I’m just curious.”

“It’s okay”, Mercedes reassured him. “I…I don’t know the fiancé of my sister, it’s not fair to judge him. It’s just…an entirely different world, I guess. Thanks to his occupation he’s quite popular and meets with presidents and kings and queens all the time…”

“And you are not inventing this story right now?”, he asked teasingly.

“I wish.” Mercedes chuckled. “Be careful what you wish for, that’s what I always say. Who wants to marry a billionaire if I have to greet six hundred guests on a three-day lasting wedding spectacle?”

“I understand.” Sam nodded. He then pointed at Kurt who was still fast asleep. “He doesn’t like flying?”

“Not really”, Mercedes answered. “It’s good that he is asleep now.” Changing the topic, she pointed at Sam’s watch. “You have a really nice watch.”

“You think so? Thank you. I need to admit, I love it. It belonged to my great-greatuncle who didn’t have kids. And since I am the eldest male descendant, I got it.”

It was a shame that Sam wore that fashion disaster of a sweater because he seemed to be a nice guy. Mercedes bit her lip when she realized that she had been in a relationship not fifteen hours ago and she was starting to flirt now.

But- why not? After all, she was single. Single. What a new life concept.

“Your great-great-uncle would be happy to see you wear it.”

He smiled and nodded. “He was a great guy. He didn’t own much; this watch meant the world to him.” He lovingly touched the watch.

“Where are you from?”, Mercedes wanted to know.

“I am from Richmond, New Zealand, but I moved to London a while ago.”

Well, that would explain his accent.

“I have never been to New Zealand”, Mercedes muttered. She didn’t really travel that much. Whenever she, her sister and her mother went on vacation, they went to visit relatives in Ohio or Detroit. But she never had left the states until now.

“And what brought you to London?”

“I am a film-maker and I have to go where I can work. London offers so many possibilities.”, he explained.

“You don’t have to justify why you left your home”, Mercedes said softly but was kind of deflated. Because boy, Sam Evans was just another ambitious man that was thirsty for fame. _Just another Anthony_.

“I don’t”, Sam pouted. “But seriously, there is not much to film in Richmond. We have the beach…that’s all.” He smirked.

“I know what you mean”, Mercedes answered while Kurt was moving in his sleep. At least, he was not snoring. “There is nothing we can do about it.”

Both of them stayed silent for a while until Mercedes said: “But London can’t be the only interesting city, right?”

“Of course not”, Sam agreed. “You can find exciting things to film in New Zealand too. But in my case, it’s important that people see what I film, and that’s easier in London, or Europe in general.”

“Oh, okay.”

Mercedes sighed. It was as if she was listening to Anthony, she just needed to replace London with L.A. Everything except of her needed to search for streets out of gold.

“Right now, I am working on this big project”, Sam just said.

Forcing herself to smile, Mercedes muttered: “Really? Big as in big budget?”

Sam frowned. “Well, if that was the case, things would be easier, that’s for sure.”

“A big project?” Mercedes cocked her eyebrows.

He nodded in agreement.

Slightly irritated, she turned away. Anthony told her about that so many times, it was getting annoying. She could totally pass on that Anthony 2.0.

“Why do guys always think about big, lucrative projects?”

“What do you mean?”

“It shouldn’t be about making something great all the time, right? Quality and satisfaction of our jobs should be more important in life.”

Again, Sam frowned, but before he could say anything, Mercedes said: “Like in the fashion industry.”

“Fashion?” Sam was visibly surprised.

“Yes! Fashion trends come and go, they are changing all the time. But the most important thing is that they are always developing and keep their standards and their integrity.”

“You think fashion is a role model for integrity?”

Mercedes smiled. “Well, I know some…”

“That vain, moody and overpriced fashion industry?”

“Excuse me?” Mercedes stared at his sweater demonstratively, but he didn’t seem to notice.

The airplane was shaking again.

“Weird clothes for anorexic, spoiled women?”

Mercedes tried to think of an argument, the atmosphere between them got worser. She tried not to show him how much those words hurt.

Some people were just so…petty! Obviously, he had no clue about fashion, but it didn’t mean that it was worthless or something. It was the opposite – to her, fashion meant everything!

“Apart from the working places fashion provides, the money that is essential for our economy, the influence of our daily lives…”

“I am sure there are exceptions…” Sam didn’t look disdainful anymore, but slightly embarrassed.

“…the artistic challenges!”, Mercedes went on. “All the small producers of hem, that make sure that designers have a job because the world counts on them, but…”

“You are working in the fashion industry, right?”, he asked sheepishly.

“…the art of tailoring that took many years to learn, its positive influence on the self-esteem…yes, Sam, I am working in the fashion industry.” She pointed at the sleeping Kurt. “And he does, too.”

It felt good talking about herself and Kurt as if they were colleagues. “I am making an internship at a fashion firm in New York and try selling some of my pieces on my own website.”

“That’s…great.”

Mercedes ignored his lame comment. “And one day, I want to work in Paris.”

“I am sorry”, Sam said earnestly. “My fault.”

“Forget it”, Mercedes answered, waving it off after having waited thirty seconds to answer. She wondered why she told a complete stranger everything about her and decided to end that conversation.

Luckily, Sam seemed to get the message. “Okay”, he said, scooting away from her. “I will leave you alone.”

Although they were trying to scoot away from each other, they were not really successful considering the space problem. Mercedes sighed. “To be honest, I have problems with men and cameras.”, she admitted.

“Oh, can you explain it to me?” He leaned over to her. “We are not all bad guys.”

Indeed, Mercedes wanted to give in to the temptation, she didn’t really have the possibility to complain to someone because of Anthony. But it was probably no good idea to trust someone she just met with her story.

“You know what? Forget it.”

“So you want to live in Paris?”, he changed the topic. “Nice city.”

“That’s right.” Mercedes nodded. “One day…but now, I live in New York. I just finished my studies of fashion designing."

Sam pretended he held a gun to his head and pulled the trigger and she giggled.

“Don’t worry, we won’t start this all over again.”

“Truce”, Sam agreed. “Good.”

“Every now and then, I design pieces for friends for fun. But Paris is my dream. I would kill for an internship at a big, Parisian Label.”

He nudged her amicably. “Fame and riches, right?”

Mercedes shook her head. “You know what? I don’t want to sound conceited, but I just want to design great clothes. I don’t really care about the glamour or something, I like the process, the creative process.”

For a while, she looked at Sam’s sweater that looked just bad. “Oh my gosh, I cannot believe I just said creative process! What has gotten into me?”

“I am sure I can top your sentences with mine of the film industry.”

He is really attractive, Mercedes thought dreamily. Whether he has a girlfriend? What a lucky woman…

The airplane suddenly started jolting again and decreased its altitude in an alarming way. The _Fasten Seatbelts_ displays blinked and Mercedes clutched her armrest tighter. This time, she was scared as well.

“It’s always windy if the plane passes alps”, Sam said reassuringly.

“Hmm” Somehow, Mercedes couldn’t keep her cool like he could.

“Cabin crew, please come to the cockpit”, the captain said, and Mercedes couldn’t hear any excitement in his voice what calmed her down a bit.

“What about you? What brings you to Venice?”, she asked while Kurt started moving in his seat.

“Exciting times. I will show one of my movies at a film festival in Venice.”

“Really? Sounds awesome”, Mercedes answered. “Like at a film premiere?”

“Something like that”, he answered humbly. “The most important thing is to build up a reputation. Sadly, film makers don’t achieve anything if they don’t have the right contact people. So I will shake some hands and talk until I am blue in the face – I will do whatever is necessary.”

“And of course, you have the perfect suit for that occasion?” According to the sweater, Mercedes thought amusedly, he didn’t.

His killing glance confirmed her theory.

“Just kidding.” She laughed. “Good luck.”

“Thanks.”

The cabin crew returned from the cockpit, looking pretty busy, and the airplane jolted again.

“I hope the wedding dress is fine”, Mercedes muttered, more to herself.

Sam threw her a confused glance.

“The dress couldn’t be fetched as planned, so we took it. My sister is scared it won’t arrive in time.”

“That’s why you were in Paris?”

Mercedes wondered whether she would bore him to death by telling him about her and Anthony, but _why not?_

“My boyfriend organized a stopover in Paris”, she started. “It’s the city of my dreams.”

Sam glanced over to the still sleeping Kurt. “How nice of him.”, he said.

“I thought he would propose to me”, she went on and grimaced. “But it didn’t go according to plan…”

“ _Ladies and Gentlemen, may I have your attention please? This is an important announcement. An important announcement…_ ”

The airplane seemed to lose altitude rapidly. Mercedes checked her watch. They were supposed to be in Venice in half an hour. She got a bad premonition.

“ _Unfortunately, the airplane has a mechanical breakdown_.”

People gasped for air, scared.

“ _We will make an emergency landing at the airport of Sion, Switzerland._ ”

Mercedes’ stomach turned. The airport of Sion? She had never heard of it in her entire life. Outside, the silhouette of a mountain appeared next to the cloud, a little bit too close for Mercedes’ taste. But Kurt’s elbow that hit her between the ribs didn’t give her time to think about it.

“Ouch!”

“Oh my god, we are all going to die!” Suddenly, Kurt was wide awake and tried opening his seatbelt. All hell broke loose inside the airplane. People around them shouted and screamed panickily, some were starting to pray. Mercedes got a feeling to drown inside that chaos.

“No!”, she shouted to Kurt and clutched his arm so that he didn’t move. At least, he was distracting her so that she couldn’t get a breakdown “You can’t get up, that’s not allowed!”

“ _No reason to panic, this is just a precaution.”_

“We are so doomed!” Kurt tried freeing himself from Mercedes’ grip.

“Stop that! It’s not helping”, Mercedes screamed, but was ignored.

“ _This is just a precaution. Please remain seated. We will give you more information soon._ ”

“Didn’t I say it? Didn’t I say that we all will die in that airplane? It’s going to crash down as a giant fireball!”

“Calm down, bro”, Sam said and patted Kurt’s shoulder. “They only said it’s a precaution.”

But he couldn’t calm down Kurt as well. Despite Mercedes’ efforts, he somehow got up. And rushed over to exit while Galina threw him several killing glances.

“I need to get out of here! Where are the parachutes?!”

“Young man, we don’t have any! And now, sit down, for god’s sake!”, Galina yelled at him, her face was red with anger.

“You don’t have parachutes?”, Kurt asked incredulously and stared at the door. “We are all going to die!”

Mercedes looked around, wondering whether someone else was watching that scene. But all the other passengers seemed to have their own problems. At this moment, Galina arrived at where Kurt was standing and took him by the arm.  
But she wasn’t quite successful when she wanted to drag him away.

Just at this moment, Mercedes realized that she had gotten up and was standing in front of her seat, glued to the spot and hands in front of her mouth.

“I will get you arrested”, Galina spat while she tried to get him away from the door, in vain.

Kurt didn’t seem to notice her presence, he seemed to be out of his mind. Other passengers that weren’t busy with not breaking down or praying to several gods were only watching them, some of them retrieved their phones to film what happened, but neither of them dared to move from their seats and help the female flight attendant.

But then, Sam got up, went past Mercedes and went down the aisle right to Kurt and Galina.

“Okay, bro, that’s enough”, he said. “Nobody will jump out of this plane. And now, the both of us are returning to our seats and let the crew do their work.”

As by miracle, Sam’s calm voice seemed to work wonders. Kurt turned around to him and stammered: “But we will…die, don’t you see? There ... was this prophecy…we never should have gotten into that plane…”

“Nobody will die today, okay?”, Sam said softly, laying his hand around Kurt’s shoulder. He turned to Galina. “Sorry, Ma’am.”

Galina’s face expression softened; she was visibly relieved.

“If you excuse us, I will bring my friend back to his seat.”

All the way back to the seat, Sam assured Kurt that they won’t die, and that the crew knew what they were doing. Some people that weren’t busy with panicking, applauded.

Just when they had sat down, Blaine came rushing over from the back. “I couldn’t be here earlier.” He gripped both of Kurt’s shoulders, concerned. “Can I somehow help?”

The sight of Blaine calmed Kurt down. “I…Thanks, I...I think I am fine now.”

“Are you sure?”

He nodded. “I am sorry…”

Blaine winked at him. “Everything is going to be okay. Fear of flying is cruel, but the fear of showing emotions is way worse.”

Kurt nodded in shame.

“No reason to feel ashamed, my new friend”, Blaine went on and squeezed Kurt’s hand. “Try to relax and we will see each other again after the landing, okay?”

After that, he left. Kurt stayed behind and stared at the hand Blaine had squeezed.

“What…what just happened?”, he stuttered.

“Everything will be fine” Mercedes smiled and caressed his arm reassuringly even though she was scared shitless herself when the plane started jolting again. But Kurt next to her seemed to be more scared than her, according to his pale face. “Come on, Kurt. Breathe. Breathe in…and out…in…and out…yes, continue like that…”

Luckily, he seemed to calm down. Relieved, Mercedes turned to Sam. “Thank you. Thank you for helping him.”

Sam waved it off. “It’s okay. I guess I watched too many disaster movies to know what to say. I was lucky.”

Mercedes smiled. “You were great. Sorry I was no help, to be honest, I was pretty scared myself.”

“That’s why it’s easier for a stranger to act at moments like these.”

She was about to say that she didn’t know Kurt herself, but in this moment, the plane turned to the left, passing several mountains that were dangerously close. Mercedes’ hands were sweaty, her heart was beating way too fast. She tried hiding her fear from Kurt and closed her eyes, evening out her breathing and hoping that this dumb airplane would land soon, preferably with still living passengers.

“ _Ladies and Gentlemen, we will land in misty conditions. No need to panic, out radar and pilots are prepared to handle that situation…_ ”

The rest of the message couldn’t be heard because of crackling, Mercedes couldn’t see anything when she looked out of the window. How the hell could they land?

Sam stared down his hands and bit his lower lip.

And then, Mercedes recognized green and red lights underneath them. The airplane made contact with the ground, and it sounded like a rocket would land or something. When it came to a halt, the passengers applauded and screamed in joy, hugging each other. Kurt struck up a song, _Amazing Grace_ , and a couple of people even joined him.

Galina and Blaine jumped up and stormed to the cockpit. And Mercedes was so relieved that she allowed herself to breathe again.

“Thanks again”, she said to Sam and shook his hand.

He smiled at her. “It was a pleasure.”

Mercedes felt weird at their body contact.

But then, Kurt stopped singing, buried his face in his hands and started crying. And for some reason, Mercedes felt like crying too.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own anything

**Hours left until the wedding:** 51  
**Miles left until Venice:** 356

Even though Mercedes had never heard of the airport of Sion before, she was glad it existed. Because thanks to that airport, the pilots could land the damaged machine without problems. While she went towards the airport building along with the other passengers after they had gotten out of the plane, she wondered how things would continue.

Kurt next to her hadn’t said anything since they had landed, and Mercedes did her best to cheer him up.

“We really need to book the next flight to Venice once we are inside. People will fight to get tickets.”, she just said.

Behind her, someone laughed, and when she turned around, she saw Sam. “Why are you laughing?”, she wanted to know.

“Just look around”, he answered friendly. “It doesn’t really look like an International airport to me.”

Mercedes did as he said. The airport building looked small from outside, the only airstrip was surrounded by snow-covered mountains.

Suddenly, big snowflakes started falling down and Mercedes walked faster towards the entry. Kurt had told her that his friends liked skiing in the alps, especially in a swiss place like Sion. Or more exactly, in the middle of nowhere.

_Great._

“I am sure the airline will take care of that problem.”

“Do you think so?”, Kurt asked skeptically and cocked his eyebrows. “ _Formidable_. They will put us into another plane. Probably another small death trap like that thing over there…” He pointed at one of the biplanes that was about to take off. “We will die today either way.”

“May I interrupt you?” Blaine appeared in front of them, wearing pink shades. He looked gorgeous in the sunlight, even Mercedes needed to admit that. He threw Kurt an apologetic glance. “I’m afraid you need to come with me, Sir. The security officers of the airport would like to talk to you.”

“Why?”, Mercedes wanted to know.

Blaine looked down bashfully. “Because of the, how shall I put it, _incident_ during the flight…”

“But that was only because of panic”, Mercedes tried to explain. “It’s over.”

Kurt threw her a pleading but also stern glance. “Please”, he said “I will take care of it.”

“Someone complained”, Blaine added. “In Switzerland, there are regulations for situations like that” He didn’t look that pleased either. “In Moscow, we are not fretting about peanuts like that one. Guns and weapons – yes. Bombs -yes. Drugs – occasionally. But a gentleman like you who was just scared? No way!”

“Does he have to go?”, Sam asked.

“He either goes or he will get arrested”, Blaine said, shrugging.

Kurt’s eyes widened.

Blaine reassuringly squeezed his shoulder. “I will come with you and make sure they treat you right. And I will try convincing the officers to not make a mountain out of a molehill, as the Russians like to say it.”

Mercedes looked at him. “The Russians have the same saying?”

“Th…thanks”, Kurt gasped. Mercedes wondered whether he didn’t exaggerate with the pills he took at the airplane. His widened pupils and his acting spoke volumes.  
She helplessly watched how Blaine and Kurt walked towards the security section.

“We better should go take our luggage”, Sam pulled her out of her thoughts.

“What will go wrong next?” She sighed and looked after Kurt.

“He will be fine”, Sam tried to reassure her. “They will surely just interrogate him, scare him a bit and release him. After that, you can both go riding towards the sunset.”

“I hope so”, Mercedes muttered.

Lost in thoughts, she and Sam went to the hall where the luggage conveyor was, waiting along with the other passengers that looked tired and impatient. Mercedes spotted a map of Europe hanging on the wall and looked at where they were now.

 _It’s not that far until Venice_ , she thought. _Only a small jump over the alps. There will certainly be flights to Italy from here._

At this moment, a voice declared over the loudspeaker that due to the weather today, all flights had been cancelled.

“Oh no”, Mercedes groaned.

She was not the only one who was upset. All the passengers around here were complaining loudly until a loud “Shhht!” silenced them so that they could hear the rest of the message.

The voice explained that due to security reasons they couldn’t tell whether planes would be able to take off the next day, they needed to wait how the unusually stormy weather would develop.

“That’s a big stack of great news”, Mercedes muttered, displeased. “Act of god is no excuse for Coralee. She will kill me if I am not in Venice in time. At least, we have a couple of days left.” She frowned. “I thought the people of the airline would break their backs to help us out in cases like that one.”

Sam was madly typing something into his phone.

“Unusually stormy weather?”, Mercedes went on. “What’s so unusual? I mean, yes, we are in August, it isn’t supposed to snow – okay, maybe in the alps. But if a damaged machine can land here, during a storm, mist, snow and with a palsied wing or whatever, they should be able to get another one that can take off without any problems, right? I mean, seriously!”

Sam just nodded absentmindedly. “They better think of something – Jasmine will be devastated if I don’t arrive in time.”

Mercedes felt a weird sensation in her stomach.

_Jasmine._

There she was: The woman in his life. Now that he had said her name, his face expression changed. It got softer; his green eyes were telling her that he didn’t want to let her down. Mercedes never realized before how much face expressions can say about a person.

She watched him type in the next text and didn’t miss how he ended it with three kissing emojis.

“That’s done”, he said, expectantly looking at his phone and waiting for an answer.

It came immediately. Sam read it and smiled. “She is just glad nothing bad happened to me”, he mumbled.

Mercedes needed to think about Anthony. She had no idea whether he had landed in L.A. by now, he didn’t send her a text or something.

 _Well_ , she thought, _it really is over_.

She decided to think about something else before unwanted feelings welled up – now was the worst timing to start crying.

“And what if they arrest Kurt?”

“That’s not realistic”, Sam answered. “After all, he didn’t commit a crime.”

“He almost knocked down a flight attendant and tried jumping out of the airplane. This is Europe, Sam! European people, especially swiss people are…strict, they stick to the rules!”

“And where did you pick up that not in the slightest stereotypical prejudice?”, Sam asked amusedly.

Mercedes shrugged and grinned. “I like watching TV – Switzerland is strict and zero-tolerant towards insubordinates, right?”

“Chocolate? Cuckoo clocks?”, he mocked her.

“Okay, okay.” Mercedes needed to laugh. “I have no idea. I am just…far away from home and things start getting out of hand.”

Sam sighed. “There a no trains at this place.”

“Not even something like a ropeway down to the valley?”

“You really do have an exact imagination of Switzerland, don’t you?”

“Do you have any other ideas how do get to Venice?”

“I will go get a map and find a way”, Sam explained patiently. “But I’m sure that’s superfluous. I’m sure everything will be alright in the end.”

“Are you sure about that?”

He looked around in the hall. Mercedes spotted an employee who just yawned loudly. “Not really.”

Kurt was on the other end of the building and got interrogated by two uniformed security guys. Or were these men real police officers? When she spotted the guns in their holsters that were hanging on their pants, she needed to shudder. Kurt’s wild gesticulations didn’t seem to work on the sternly looking officers. Blaine was standing next to him, every now and then laying a hand on his shoulder or cutting Kurt’s melodramatic explanations off with short comments. The only reaction of the security guys was a shake of their heads.

“Poor Kurt”, Mercedes muttered. “If only I could help him.”

“It must be hard for you”, Sam answered. “You would like to be there with him, right?”

Mercedes threw him a weird glance. “To be honest, I don’t think I would be a great help.”

Her answer seemed to surprise him, but before Mercedes could think about it, the luggage conveyor started moving and bags appeared on them. People quickly got them off of the conveyor and rushed away.

“Why do they hurry?”, Mercedes wondered.

Sam looked at her with a frown.

“Ooohhh…” Realization dawned on her. “ If they all gave up hope to get a flight…”

He nodded slowly.

“Everyone will try to get a rental car!” Mercedes formed her mouth to an o-shape. “How big are the chances that there are enough rental cars?”

Sam thought exactly the same. “Shall I wait for your luggage so that at least the two of you get one?”

Surprised, Mercedes looked up. “You would do that for us?”

“Sure.”

“Great, thanks.” Mercedes was overwhelmed. “But I think I better wait for the dress”, she sighed. “I could pick up yours instead.”

Sam pointed at Kurt’s direction. “You have enough to worry about right now. I will find a solution.”

Not saying anything for a while, they looked at the luggage conveyor. Twenty minutes later, only a couple of passengers were waiting, and Mercedes was one of them.

“Is Jasmine already in Venice?”, she asked as innocently as possible.

He seemed to be surprised when she asked that question. “Of course! Jasmine is the star.”

“Great.”

“I am happy having found her”, Sam said, smiling longingly. “She changed my life and my view of the world.”

Mercedes needed to gulp. “Great”, she repeated lamely, but Sam seemed to be on a roll.

“I know it’s a cliché, but do you know the saying ‘Someone lightens up a room?`”

“Oh. Does she?” Mercedes felt how it got harder to keep smiling.

“Yes. Yes, she does.”

“Well, she is a happy woman.”

“Oh, no believe me, I am the happy one”, Sam answered her back. “Oh my! Look at that, who spends so much money on just a suitcase?!”

The leather suitcase of the Antoine-Décoste-Summer cruise Collection just landed on the luggage conveyor with a loud thud. Mercedes threw Sam a killing glance and rushed over to get it.

“Oops”, she heard Sam say.

“It’s Kurt’s.” Mercedes smiled. “That quality lasts the entire life. It’s worth every single penny.”

Just after she had said that sentence, her less glamorous violet suitcase and Sam’s khaki colored backpack followed, his luggage looked old and quite battered.

Mercedes remembered what her grandma told her: _Buy something cheap and you will buy it twice_. She was tempted to tell Sam exactly that as a payback for his comment. But she held herself back in the last moment.

The luggage conveyor got slower.

“Our things must have been the last ones.” Sam sighed. “Maybe that was the revenge for what happened at the plane.”

Upset, Mercedes realized that this was the moment to say goodbye. They knew each other for a couple of hours, but she didn’t know what to say. She smiled and her cheeks heated up.

“Do you expect more luggage?”, he asked.

Mercedes shook her head. “Just one. The wedding dress of my sister.”

“Good.” He turned around to leave. “In case that there will be a flight tomorrow we will maybe see each other again. If not, it has been nice to have met you, Mercedes.”

Somewhat helplessly, he held out his hand and Mercedes took it shyly. “Likewise, Sam.”

He then walked towards the waiting lounge and was gone.

“Bye”, she said quietly when she couldn’t see him anymore.

But then, she noticed that the luggage conveyor had gotten way slower.

Until it stopped moving altogether.

 _I am not worried_ , she thought to herself. _Not in the slightest_.

Her heart was beating faster.

The luggage hatch was closed.

“Nooooo!”, someone called out loudly, and Mercedes realized that it had been her. “I knew it! I knew it all the time!”, she yelled at no particular person. “That dumb airline! If nobody shows up within ten seconds and serves up the wedding dress of my sister on a silver plate, I will get really, _really_ mad!” She got so loud that people started to make a wide berth around her.

Alone and helpless, Mercedes stood next to the not moving luggage conveyor. While she felt how she slowly panicked, she looked around in the hall. Looked like people would call it a day now, even Kurt and his kidnappers where nowhere to be seen. Maybe, they continued the interrogation at another, less public place.

A couple of minutes later, the luggage conveyor resembled a deserted graveyard.

“Hello?”, Mercedes shouted, hearing the echo of her voice. “Can someone help me? Please?” She abandoned her suitcase and ran off, searching for someone she could complain to. When she was about to open her mouth again to shout louder, a small, elderly man opened the door next to the luggage conveyor and wanted to walk towards the cafeteria.

“Thank god!” Mercedes rushed over to him. “Do you speak English?”

“A bit”, he muttered.

Then, Mercedes started telling him everything that had happened so far, not even taking a breath between the words.

“Stop!” The man lifted his hand. “Slow, please.”

“I need to find the wedding dress. It should have come with the other luggage.” She pointed at the hatch and repeated: “Wedding dress!” She drew the outlines of a dress in the air and hummed the melody of a wedding march.

The man shook his head and shrugged.

“Everything finished”, he just said. And then, he turned around and walked away.

“ _What?_ ” Mercedes grabbed his arm and he turned around again. “A wedding-dress!”, she screeched. “A big, white dress bag? Please, I am begging you! It’s important!”

The man just stared at her. “Please no shouting.”, he said.

“I don’t shout!”, Mercedes yelled. She took a deep breath. “That’s an emergency.”

“Mademoiselle, please calm.”, the man said stiffly and raised his hands in surrender. “Everything finished.”, he repeated. “Suitcases gone. You go away.”

“No!”

“Yes!” He pointed at the exit. “Lost luggage you must say there!”

“Lost luggage? The airport is not large enough, things can’t get lost here.” Mercedes had difficulties breathing, she felt pissed and helpless at the same time. “You won’t…won’t…won’t…” Much to her disdain, she was unable to form an entire sentence. She couldn’t even cry. Obviously, she lost control over her body. And her emotions.

The man looked at her, worried, and stopped pointing towards the exit.

“I…you…I…” Still, words didn’t want to come out. Mercedes turned around, and without thinking, she marched towards the door next to the luggage conveyor.

“Mademoiselle!”

Mercedes stopped and turned to him. “I promise, I won’t steal anything.”

He sighed. “Please no!” He raised his index finger warningly.

“Only one short glance?”, she pleaded. Slowly, she approached the door and tried opening it.

“No trespassing!”, he shouted.

But the door was locked anyway. There was only one way left.

The luggage conveyor.

“Sorry”, Mercedes said, shrugging. “But I have no other choice.”

Before the man could even react, Mercedes got onto the conveyor and started balancing towards the hatch.

“Mademoiselle! Don’t make me climb to you. That’s forbidden! I call police!”

Mercedes didn’t really notice the shouting of him when she got down and opened the plastic curtains of the hatch to poke her head into it. Slowly, she moved into the small room, needing a few seconds to look around. The floor was dirty and filthy, the dark storeroom full of suitcases, boxes and some backpacks.

She slowly got up. Her teeth were clattering because of the cold temperatures inside the room. But she couldn’t care less. Her highest priority was to find that dress. She didn’t want to think about that it never had been on board. It could be still in Paris or in a freight plane next to some goats on the way to India.

Coralee would never _ever_ forgive her if she ruined her wedding. That would be the final straw.

Aimlessly, Mercedes wandered around, hoping -or fearing – to spot it somewhere. Then, she needed to think about Blaine and that he would keep the dress like a highness. And Blaine had looked like he would stay true to his words, she just needed to trust him.

The man poked his head through the hatch as well. “You in big trouble, Mademoiselle. You not find here.”

Mercedes froze. Normally she didn’t act like a criminal. But she needed to make sure that the dress really wasn’t there. “Please”, she pleaded. “Give me one minute.”

He narrowed his eyes angrily. “No.”

For a while, they just stared at each other. Suddenly, Mercedes sprinted away. She stumbled through the storage room and hectically searched for the dress. It had to be somewhere, it just had to!

The man climbed through the hatch as well and followed her, but luckily, Mercedes was faster. That had to be her adrenaline kick or something.

_Come on! It couldn’t be so hard…that big white bag that looked like that crumpled thing underneath the dusty wine boxes… that crumpled thing underneath the dusty wine boxes?!_

“Noooo!!!”

Mercedes made a beeline for the corner, the man followed her like a hunter chased a deer, a corpulent looking security man in tow who held a sandwich in his other hand. He must have heard the shouting of their dispute.

“What…what have you just done?”, Mercedes sobbed, ignoring the men and pulling out the crumpled dress bag. “That…that sad fabric is a customized Antoine Décoste and belongs to my sister!”

She pulled it closer to herself and stared at the two men. No one seemed to know what to do now.

The sandwich of the security man fell to the ground, to Mercedes, it happened in slow-mo.

“Mademoiselle? You go with that man.”

“Look at that!”, Mercedes tried to stay calm. “What did I tell you? Here it is! And it’s probably ruined."

Without looking away from her, the security guy took his walkie talkie and asked for reinforcements in a quiet voice.

Mercedes looked down the weapon in the man’s holster and realized what she had just done: She was in the _prohibited area_. Of an _airport_.

“Please don’t shoot off my head!” She dropped to her knees, showing surrender. “I would raise my hands as well, but I can’t drop the dress.”

The security man gaped at her wordlessly. He probably thought that she was a crazy criminal. Or an illegal immigrant with drug problems. Or just a lunatic that broke out of a madhouse.

“Look.” She held the dress in the air. “That belongs to me. I just flipped out a bit because I knew that it had to be here somewhere and the nice flight attendant – what was his name again…?”

The face expressions of the men told Mercedes how serious the situation was.

“...Blaine! Blaine told me he would look after the dress. And now that I got it back, I would like to leave.” Slowly, she got up and tentatively went towards the door.

“Just like that”, the security man said.

Mercedes turned around, looking at them with big, innocent eyes. “Yes? I just want to leave. Listen, I have my dress and I won’t even complain that you weren’t careful enough and didn’t lay it on the luggage conveyor what you should have done. If you would excuse me now…”

“Don’t move!”, the security man bellowed, pointing at her with his stick he had kept in his other holster. “Stay where you are!”

“But I need to go to Venice! My sister will...”

Mercedes trailed off when she say the men's stern glances. She got a feeling that she would go to prison directly instead of chilling at a Spa at her sister’s bachelorette party.  
Who knew, maybe there was a chance that she and Kurt could be cellmates, after all, they were both enemies of the state now.  
That prospect was still way better than being on the receiving end of Coralee’s wrath.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own anything.

**Hours left until the wedding:** 49.5  
**Miles left until Venice:** 356

“Are you kidding?”

The man who was in charge for the luggage sheepishly looked down when security guy retrieved his walkie talkie again and asked impatiently where the reinforcements were. He pointed at the red warning plate hanging over the door.

“You are not allowed to enter this area!”

“I had no other choice- nobody wanted to help me!”, Mercedes defended herself. “You!” She pointed at the luggage man, throwing him a pleading glance. “You didn’t help me, you told me that all the luggage had already been taken…”

The security man narrowed his eyes. Mercedes saw that he glanced over to the door, he obviously waited for the reinforcements. The luggage man glanced at the clock, nervous.

Suddenly, the security man retrieved a book and started to read with a strong accent: “Miss. Did you take some illegal substances?”

“Excuse me?” Mercedes couldn’t believe what she had just heard.

The security man eyed her up and down. “Drugs?”

Her surprise turned into anger. “I wish I would realize that this is just a Marihuana trip. But no, I didn’t take drugs. Can I go now?”

“No.”

The luggage man shrugged resignedly and mumbled something, but the security man scoffed something in French. Then, he pointed at the dress bag.

“What’s that?”

“The wedding dress of my sister.”

“Oh, really?”

“Yes!” What else was supposed to be in a dress bag? When she realized what the man was assuming, Mercedes started to shudder.

“Hey, there is nothing forbidden in there!”, she practically yelled. “Just a dress by Antoine Décoste!”

The blank faces of the men were just disappointing. Obviously, they had no clue about the fashion industry.

“Please open it.”

“Here?” Mercedes eyed the filthy storage room with the dirty floor and the greasy boxes. She remembered Kurt’s reaction when she wanted to have a look at the dress at the airport lounge. “I can’t, it will be ruined – if it isn’t already munted!”

She pressed the dress closer to herself.

The security man started thinking. “A designer dress, you said?”

Mercedes nodded and repeated: “An Antoine Décoste. You can google it.”

But he didn’t understand.

“So much space, big dress, hm? So many layers, so many pockets…”

“No idea”, Mercedes admitted. “I didn’t see it yet, but the trend this season is rather plain and straight, pockets were in last year…” She trailed off when she realized what he wanted to say by that. “You think I might have hidden something inside it?”

He cocked an eyebrow.

“Listen, there is nothing inside that bag but a dress that is worth thousands of Euros.”, she explained tiredly.

“Show it to me.”

“No!”

“Then we will confiscate it.”

“You can’t do that!”

“And cut it open.”

Despite her fear, Mercedes needed to laugh loudly. But then, she realized that this man was serious. “You can’t do that.”

Again, he cocked an eyebrow, knowing that he had found a sore point.

“Cut open a Décoste! That’s as if you would slice open the Mona Lisa!”

Stunned, Mercedes pictured the phone call she and Coralee would have. “Sorry, Corr, but I got into the security area of the airport, fought with an officer who mistook me for a drug smuggler…you know, the usual stuff. Anyways, they shredded the dress…”

“Please, don’t do that”, Mercedes said weakly. “You can look at it, but at a clean place?”

The security man didn’t look convinced.

“It’s just, it’s not mine”, she went on, close to tears. “I don’t want it to get dirty.”

“So you are transporting goods for others?”, the security man asked sternly.

Mercedes cursed inwardly when she thought about what had happened in _Orange is the New Black_ she had binge watched on Netflix not long ago. She had just broken one of the Ten Commandments of the airport.

“Well, it belongs to my sister.”

“And you packed it?”

“Strictly speaking, I didn’t. It came directly from the designer.” Mercedes’ stomach sank when she realized that she had said the wrong things.

“You didn’t pack your luggage by yourself?”

She couldn’t resent him that behavior. After all, security people were paid to do exactly that.

“So your sister paid for it?”

“Probably not – not yet, I guess.”

“It’s not paid?!”

Mercedes desperately rubbed her head. “It somehow sounds more wrong than it is.”

“The police will be interested in you, Mademoiselle. I think you are dealing with stolen goods.”

She can’t believe what she had just heard. “That’s a nightmare!”

The security man had retrieved his phone and typed in a number, not looking away from Mercedes for a second.

“Sergio Bellucci paid the dress, or one of his employees, but…”

He froze and his mouth opened.

“Sergio Bellucci?”, he repeated.

“Yes?”, Mercedes confirmed hesitantly while the men’s faces lit up. “It’s a wedding gift for his fiancée.”, she went on, confused. The men didn’t look that stern anymore. “Well, a part of the wedding gift. She also said something about a vacation home in Maldives…”

“From Venice? _The_ Sergio Bellucci? Businessman?”

Mercedes nodded.

Coralee had once told her that Sergio was a star all over the Europe, but Mercedes had never heard of him in the states. Mentioning his name seemed to completely change the rules of the game.

“Why didn’t you tell us sooner?” The security man was annoyed about her slowness. “Come with us! Let’s go, we will talk at another place.”

For a moment, Mercedes thought the security man wanted to hug her when he came to her with opened arms. Instead, he took her by the arm and led her back to the main area of the terminal. He then threw her a weird glance.

“You can prove that you know Signor Bellucci, right?”, he asked, scowling.

“Shall I call him?”

After she had said that sentence, she regretted it. “No, wait.”

She didn’t want Sergio to know about that fauxpas, that mishap, that would be too embarrassing. And Coralee would behead her.

“Scratch that – Kurt can confirm it.”

She looked around and spotted him behind a glass pane, discussing with two other officers with wild gesticulations. “That man over there. He is working for Antoine, the designer of the dress. He must have the purchase contract in his bag.”

The security man groaned, annoyed. “That crazy half-Briton?”

“Yes, exactly!”

At this moment, Mercedes noticed that someone else was in the hall with them. She turned around, spotting Sam leaning against the wall, his backpack on the floor.

“Oh!”, she exclaimed. “Hi!”

He saluted jokingly and smiled. The door to the security room opened and Kurt came out of it with the officers in tow.

“That explains why your reinforcements didn’t show up”, Mercedes muttered. “They are all busy with Kurt.”

The security man rolled his eyes.

“Sorry about all this.” The security man looked at her, confused and Mercedes grimaced. “I just panicked a bit.”

“That’s what criminals usually do.”

Mercedes needed to agree. “Sisters of brides as well.”

He needed to laugh. “Wait an instant, please.”

When he went over to his colleagues, Sam went to her.

“Everything fine with you?”, he asked.

“How much time do you have for the story?”, Mercedes wanted to know. She rolled her eyes. “I needed to jump through a luggage hatch to get the dress – they swore that they didn’t have it. But wait, why aren’t you in Venice?”

Sam shrugged. “I didn’t want to let you down.” He nodded to Kurt. “And you were so busy getting the dress back.”

So Sam stayed to watch over Kurt. That was somehow cute.

“How nice of you.”

“I’m telling you; I NEED TO GET TO VERONA!!!”

Kurt’s shouting made everyone stare at his direction.

“Kurt! What the hell?”, Mercedes shouted, but he didn’t listen to her anyway.

“You don’t understand, I have an important appointment in Verona.”

“Verona?”, Sam hissed, confused. “I thought you wanted to go to Venice?”

“He flipped out”, Mercedes answered. “He is talking trash.” She needed to think about the pills he took at the airplane. “Have you seen how many pills he took?”

“Well, well, well”, the security who overheard that part said. “So you really _had_ drugs.”

Mercedes was too exhausted to panic again. “No, they are out of plants only.” She spotted Blaine, their savior, walk towards them. “Ask Blaine!”

“Guys! Leave this poor, tired gentleman alone”, Blaine commanded, crossing his arms.

“He is a suspect”, one of the officers spat.

“He is scared!”, Blaine reasoned. “Kurt, what did they do to you?”

“Just let us do our work.” The security man walked to Blaine who glared at him.

“That’s no good idea. He is just scared of flying, his acting was a reaction to the medication he took. You certainly learned during your education what it can trigger. Let him go, now.”

The head officer looked at Blaine and cocked an eyebrow. He then exchanged glances with his colleagues before he looked at Kurt again.

“Monsieur, you are arrested.”

Aghast, Mercedes watched how they handcuffed him. “No! You can't do that!”, she yelled.

“In Moscow, we sort things out differently! This isn’t over yet!” With an angry and indignant glance, Blaine stormed off.

“Take my phone” A pissed looking Kurt pointed at his bag and Mercedes followed orders before the officers could hinder her. “My attorney is among the favorites.” He turned to the security guys, glaring. “That’s a scandal! The house of Décoste will never forgive Switzerland that incident. There are going to be consequences!”

Then, he and the three men disappeared through the entrance door.

Mercedes and Sam stayed back alone. The dress still pressed against herself, she tried to process what the hell just happened.

“They were about to rip open the dress to search for drugs” Mercedes muttered. “But thanks to Kurt losing his mind, the dress and I are no longer interesting to the Swiss authorities.”

Sam threw her a skeptical glance.

“How can those people act that dumb?”, she scoffed. _Europeans were weird_.

“Says the woman who just jumped into a hatch”, Sam retorted with cocked eyebrows, “You and Kurt are perfect for each other.”

“Good point” Now, Mercedes needed to laugh.

“Are you okay?”

She nodded. “Thanks for staying.”

“I didn’t want to miss that spectacle”, he answered, grinning.

Lost in thoughts, they stared at the floor.

“Did he flip out like that before?”, he asked, breaking the silence.

Mercedes shrugged. How was she supposed to know?

“Anyways”, Sam changed the topic “At least you can leave now.”

Surprised, Mercedes looked up to him. “And what about Kurt?”

“I get that you are worried, but he is grown up, he will be fine. You need to bring the dress to your sister in Venice. He knows that this is a family emergency, right?”

Mercedes nodded.

“Good. He will catch up with you and he will understand. There is no way you will miss the wedding of your sister.”

She didn’t want to tell him that this wasn’t the point. If Coralee could switch places, send Mercedes to jail and Kurt to Venice with the dress, she wouldn’t hesitate one second. Of that, Mercedes was sure.

No, she needed to stay there with the dress until things were settled.

* * *

**Hours left until the wedding:** 47 **  
Miles left until Venice:** 356

“What do you mean by ‘small problem’?” Coralee sounded icecold and threatening. “What kind of problem??”

Downcast, Mercedes looked around in the airport building and pressed her phone closer to her ear. “The plane needed to make an emergency landing. I am glad I’m still alive…”

Coralee cut her off angrily. “Something is wrong with the dress, right?”

 _Thanks you worry about me, dear sister._ “People were screaming and all hell broke…”

“Is it ripped?”, Coralee croaked. “Flawed?! Décoste assured me that everything is fine! I can’t believe it. It’s a _catastrophe_!!!”

“It’s no catastrophe! Look, the dress is fine, I have it in my arms.”

While Mercedes said that sentence, her heart ached. Actually, she hadn’t opened the dress bag until now to look whether it was okay. She didn’t have time until now. But she trusted Kurt.

“Coralee, Kurt Hummel flew with me. He will make the final adjustments in person.”

Silence.

“Can you repeat that again?”

Mercedes sighed. She didn’t miss that Coralee had no questions about the almost crash of the plane. “It was supposed to be a surprise. Décoste sent Kurt with me so that the dress fits perfectly.”

Immediately, Coralee’s tone changed. She squealed excitedly. “Ooohh! You gotta love Haute Couture. That attention to details. Awesome! If I tell Sergio’s mom…”

“Hmm.” Mercedes was afraid of what would come next.

She didn’t need to wait long. “Isn’t he a sweetheart? And so, so…elegant! Can I talk to him now? Kurt and I, we know each other very well. Obviously, Antoine designed the dress, but Kurt had been present during all the fittings and also took care of the taskwork.”

“Obviously.” Mercedes already knew it.

“Antoine educated him very well. He will take care of the icing on the cake, you know, what made Antoine’s boutique famous worldwide. Stunning! I already considered asking Antoine, but as usual, he is one step ahead.”

“Fantastic.” Mercedes sighed.

“Give me Kurt, I want to talk to him.”

 _Here we go_ … Mercedes braced herself for what would come. “Coralee, I really would like to, but…that’s the small problem.”

“Spit it out.” The threatening tone was back. “Now!”

Mercedes held the phone far away from her ear. “Kurt has been arrested.”

“WHAT?!”

“They took him away”, Mercedes answered. “I don’t know where and for how long.”

“You need to explain that to me, Mercy.” Again, her tone changed, reminding Mercedes of that of evil Cruella de Vil of _101 Dalmatians_. There was no way to make the story sound harmless, so Mercedes started talking.

“So Kurt is afraid of flying. When the airplane had problems, it got problematic. He kind of flipped out.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?! Kurt would never do that!”

“Corr, I wish I was joking myself.” Mercedes leaned against the wall, sighing. “He took pills to calm down, two, maybe more. And he panicked a little bit.” That was underrated, but she didn’t want Coralee to get an aneurysm. “After the flight, the security guys took him with them, and I have no idea where to.” She wished she could ask someone. “I am still at the airport and have no idea where he is. I am trying to find out.”

“And why didn’t you do something?!”, Coralee yelled.

“I couldn’t.” Mercedes had the urge to defend herself. “The security didn’t let me go at the storage room.”

Silence.

“What?!”

“Erm, I mean…” Mercedes silenced herself. She didn’t want to tell Coralee that part of the story. Why did she always turn back to the ten-year-old girl that was wrong whenever she talked to her older sister?

“I. Can’t. Believe. It.”

“Listen, Corr, forget all of this”, Mercedes said. “The important thing is that I didn’t die at a horrible plane crash in Switzerland.” To her, it was important, to Coralee, it obviously wasn’t. “And I have the dress, everything is perfectly fine.”

“Fine?”, Coralee scoffed. “ _Nothing_ is fine!”

“Please don’t scream, Coralee, okay?” Mercedes was glad that no one else heard their conversation. “My day had been bad enough without you cursing at me!”

“What did you expect?”, Coralee hissed. “I can’t believe that you allowed that – no, scratch that- I do believe it.” Now, it came. “Seriously, Mercy. You did it again.”

There it was. Mercedes felt how she became smaller, the same helpless sensation she felt was a child as well. She really wanted to cry out loud now.

“It isn’t my fault”, she whispered, horrified how powerless she sounded.

“Of course not. Didn’t you say the same thing at my prom? That was also important to me... whatever, nevermind. What am I supposed to do now?”

“I am so sorry, Corr”, was the only thing Mercedes could say now. “Corr? Hello?”

She couldn’t believe her sister just hung up. Angry, Mercedes tried calling her again but changed her mind and hung up before it rang. Whenever she fought with her sister, she never was the winner, there was no way to tell Coralee her side of the story.

Tired, Mercedes slumped down on a plastic chair, feeling more miserable than after her breakup with Anthony. Gosh, she couldn't believe it had it been yesterday...

Almost fifteen years ago, Coralee was excited because of her prom. Mercedes who had been ten back then was just as excited, but not because of the dancing, the makeup or the boys.

Coralee’s new dress had been the most beautiful thing she had ever seen before. That cherry red dress had pearls and paillettes on its waist, there were numerous shifts of tulle underneath the skirt that made the dress more glamourous. Mercedes only knew dresses like that one from fairytales.

She had loved playing runway show with her dolls and her teddy bears, turning them into brides and topmodels. The prom dress of her sister made Mercedes spend the rest of her life with fashion.

And Coralee looked _great_ in that dress. Mercedes wanted to make that dress even more beautiful. So she got up in the middle of the night and worked for hours in her room. With the wool of her mom, she connected the dots of the pearls like a giant necklace. To make the seam of the tulle look better, she cut off a big part of it, formed a big rose and sewed it onto the waistline. As the cherry on top, she put glue across the tulle and sprinkled glitter on it.

Then, she put the dress back into Coralee’s closet and was so excited she couldn’t sleep all night. Mercedes thought that she was the fairy godmother and Coralee Cinderella.

The next morning, however, her sister swore with tears running down her face that she would never _ever_ forgive her what she had done.

And apparently, she still meant it.

Mercedes flinched when her phone rang, snapping out of her flashback. She sighed because it was Coralee again.

“Mercedes? What happened?”

It wasn’t Coralee. It was a man speaking.

Sergio.

He didn’t sound mad, rather disappointed, like a teacher of a student who didn’t give him the homework in time.

Mercedes had no idea how to talk to her sister’s fiancé.

“Sergio”, she started, trying to sound calm. “everything is just so adventurous. But we will get it right. How are you? Excited because of the big day?”

“Coralee is unhappy”, Sergio answered. “She told me the wedding was ruined. What have you done?”

There it was again. _Her_ fault.

“What I have done?”, she repeated. “Well, Sergio, I am not sure whether I would like to be accused having ruined a wedding if everything I have done until now was survive an almost plane crash and thanks to my duty as the courier I almost got arrested. Would you be so nice to tell my sister that the dress is on its way with the next flight?”

Why did she just say that? There were no flights. But Mercedes was too tired to tell him everything. She just wanted to get rid of Sergio.

“Where are you now?”, he wanted to know.

“The plane needed to land in the alps, and we had a few problems with the costums. Kurt got arrested because of a misunderstanding. Apart from that, everything is under control, more or less.”

Mercedes didn’t want to sound sarcastic. She just wanted to give Sergio the impression that she was able to cope, but her words came out differently. In the background, she heard her sister snort disdainfully and felt uneasy again.

“Wait, Kurt got _arrested_?” Sergio still sounded calm, but also confused.

“Yes, but don’t worry about that.” Mercedes realized how pathetic she must sound.

“Hmm…”

“Listen, Sergio” She did her best not to sound as if she would burst into tears any moment. “If we can’t get Kurt out of that place, I will make the last adjustments on the dress myself. Would you please tell Coralee? And remind her that I graduated with flying colors from my fashion designing studies at a renowned university and my abilities improved since I was ten.”

“Wait an instant please”, Sergio answered and told Coralee everything.

He didn’t need to repeat her answer, Mercedes could hear Coralee’s sobbed “Over my dead body!” loud and clear.

So she just said to Sergio: “I will tell you whenever I have news” and hung up.

“Doesn’t go as planned, right?”

Sam was sitting next to her on the plastic chair and Mercedes was glad about his presence, his friendly face and was full of sympathy and without any judgement.

“It’s horrible”, she groaned. “I will never get away from here, Kurt will rot in jail, my sister absolutely hates me, and that darned dress is probably ruined after it had been buried under boxes. Why do I have a reason to be I mad?”

“What a horror trip”, he agreed.

“True.” She looked up. “Oh, and Sam?”

“Yes?”

“Why are you still here?”

He shrugged. “I couldn’t get a car. Besides, I worried about you.”

“Oh!” That answer was quite unexpected and full of warmth and Mercedes felt tears in her eyes. “Thanks but I think I can handle it. Jasmine is probably worried about you.”

“She is fine at the moment”, he answered. “What are your plans now?”

“Well, I got Kurt’s phone and I am waiting for his attorney to call me back. I hope he is from UK and speaks English, I have no idea what _panic attack over the clouds, probably caused by drugs_ is supposed to mean in French.”

“Me neither.” Sam smiled. “Can’t someone from the staff of the airport help you out?”

Mercedes shook her head. “I doubt that. After all the trouble it would be for the best to stay under the radar.” But then, she got an idea. “I will call Antoine Décoste!”, she exclaimed. “He will get this right.”

Sam looked at her with a blank face. “The fashion designer?”, he guessed.

A shiver was running down her spine when she spotted Antoine among Kurt’s contacts. She nodded. “He is a Frenchman. He will help us out.”

“That’s not necessarily the logic consequence”, Sam commented.

Mercedes threw him a killing glance and scrolled back to his number. “He is visiting his aunt at Saint-Tropez”, she informed him. “But that’s an emergency and he probably wants to help out his assistant. Better than an attorney. And so much cheaper.”

Sam threw her a weird glance.

She looked back. “I am from Ohio. We care about our money.”

Her hands were trembling when she pressed the call button. Antoine picked up immediately. “Kurt?”

Okay, she needed to concentrate now. She was just talking to her idol, no big deal, right?

“Monsieur Décoste”, she said, trying to sound official and not like a teenager calling the star of a boyband. “It’s not Kurt, it's Mercedes Jones. Coralee’s sister.”

 _It's really him!_ , she delightedly mouthed to Sam who just laughed quietly.

“Allo? Who? Who is there?” In the background, loud music could be heard. Maybe his mother turned on the TV.

“Mercedes Jones!”, she shouted “Coralee’s sister. We talked yesterday about the wedding dress.”

“Who?”, Antoine shouted back.

Mercedes sighed, rolled her eyes and said: “Sergio Bellucci’s future sister in law.”

“Oh, yes! Mademoiselle!” Mercedes was thrilled. He could remember her. Antoine Décoste remembered her! “I am so sorry. Pardon, I am at a party, the music is too loud…”

When he talked to someone else, it didn’t sound quite French, rather Italian. “So, what happened?”, he then asked her. “I couldn’t…ah! _Cameriere, altro champagne per i miei amici_!”

“Excuse me…? Monsieur Décoste, are you still there? Hello?” Mercedes could hear voices that got quieter. When he talked again, she could hear him better.

“Is there a problem, Mademoiselle? Doesn’t Signor Bellucci like the dress?”

“Erm, Sergio? He didn’t see it yet. There was a problem. Our plane landed in Sion…”

“Where?”

“I have never heard about it either, That’s in Switzerland, in the alps.” She took a deep breath. “But Kurt had been arrested. Could you help us out?”

Mercedes told him the entire story, repeating most of it a couple of times because he was apparently taking notes so she gave him as much details as possible. She could even sound heroic when she told him how she had saved the dress from the depths of the storage room. Antoine was just listening, occasionally saying yes and telling her to continue.

“Kurt never liked flying”, he finally said when she was done. “I will see what I can do, call some of my contact people.”

“Thank you very much!” He was just great, a brilliant designer and a philanthropist.

“Oh, and Mademoiselle?”

“Yes?” Mercedes smiled, waiting for his thank you.

“Monsieur Bellucci doesn’t have to know about this…mishap.”

“N…No, of course not.” Her cheeks heated up. She already told Sergio the entire story… But with a yelling Coralee behind him, he probably couldn’t hear anything anyway.

“And Mademoiselle?” She held her breath. If she acted professionally, she could maybe get an internship.

“Please, hold the dress upright all the time.”

“O…okay.”

“Good. Oh, and one thing…”

Now, it came…

“I appreciate your even criminal efforts to find that dress.”

“Well, thanks.” Mercedes was insecure whether it had been a compliment or not. “For such a perfection of a dress, I would…”

But he had already hung up. Mercedes held the phone in her hands as if a small Antoine Décoste was inside it that didn’t want to be disturbed.

She had talked to him -twice now! One thing was clear: He wouldn’t forget that girl that broke the rules to protect one of his dresses. It was only a matter of time until she started working at his place.

“Everything sorted out?” Sam had walked further away so that she could call him in silence and was patiently waiting at the coffee bar. Mercedes breathed out relievedly.

“I think so.” When she pocketed the phone, her hands were trembling. “What a day!”

The dress was lying on three stools – not in the slightest upright- and seemed to make fun of her.

“Antoine will take care of it. He is a powerful man. Just like all the top designers, you know.”

“I didn’t know.” His tone was teasing “Until I got into that plane and sat next to that crazy woman.”

Mercedes smiled at that. “They really are! A giant, multi-millionaire-…”

“Okay, okay, I get it!” He lifted his hands in surrender.

“Anyway, he will call a few people. I just need to stay until the very end.”

They looked at each other for a while.

“Well”, she went on. “That’s it. You don’t need to stay any longer. I will get it right somehow. But…thanks.”

“Are you sure?” He leaned forward and took his bag.

“Thank you so much for your support, Sam.”

“You are welcome” He smiled. He _really_ had a nice smile.

“No, seriously.”, Mercedes insisted. “I appreciate what you have done.” Both of them needed to blush. “Hey, good luck for your film festival. I will watch out for you at every glossy magazine.”

“Oh…thanks. I doubt that you will find me there.”

A nice smile _and_ coy. Jasmine was a lucky woman.

“It was nice having met you, Mercedes.”, he said and took her hand. And then, he took his backpack and left.

Mercedes stayed back alone.

She watched him walk to the exit of the airport and inexplicably felt sad. _What a nice guy_ , she thought before she begrudgingly looked away from him and went to the dress to straighten out the wrinkles of the bag.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own anything.

**Hours left until the wedding:** 43  
 **Miles left until Venice:** 356

During the past three hours, Mercedes spent much time with making sure that the dress stayed in an upright position.

From Blaine, she learned that the officers refused to drive to the police station with Kurt because of the bad weather. Instead, they all stayed in the break room.

“The entire staff of the airport should feel ashamed about their behavior”, Blaine said. “I got trained to handle people who are afraid of flying.”

“And what do you do?”, Mercedes wanted to know.

“We talk to those people, calm them down, explain to them what happens- if only I would have been in the front of the machine and not Galina! I would have taken him and taken care of him _personally_.”

His face expression was telling Mercedes that he would have done it more than personally.

Hours passed.

Blaine came to her every now and then, giving her an update. But most of the time, he was telling her that there was no progress and he would like to teach the dumb Swiss police a lesson.

“Don’t you need a break?”, Mercedes asked him after some time.

He waved it off. “Break? Not before that debacle is over.”

Mercedes, who felt a bit woozy because of the automat’s coffee, stared at Kurt’s phone, shaking it as if it could make Antoine call her back and tell her that he got things right. Oh, and by the way, if he would offer her a job because he was so awesome, that would be great as well…

But he didn’t call her back.

When the evening turned into night, she noticed how the airport’s staff changed their acting towards her. The hostile glances and the skeptical mumbling turned into friendly questions about her well-being and they even offered her coffee, tea and biscuits.

“They will let him go soon!” Blaine’s eyes were literally sparkling. “I just talked to the security – they apparently got phone calls of a VIP or something…”

“Really? Thank god.” Mercedes jumped up and spontaneously gave Blaine a hug. “I knew that Antoine would get things right.”

“Careful”, Blaine laughed. “What if your boyfriend sees you?”

“My boyfriend?”, she repeated. “ _Anthony?_ He is on the way to L. A. But how do you even know?”

Blaine looked confused. “That guy with the backpack?”

Realization dawned on Mercedes. “Oh, you mean Sam! No, he is not my boyfriend.”

“Really?”

“We never have met before. He just helped me with Kurt and stayed to make sure that I can handle everything.”

Blaine cocked his eyebrows. “He really did that for you?” He rubbed his chin and threw her an impish glance. “Nice guy.”

Mercedes needed to chuckle because of his salacious tone. “Yes, he is nice. But he is not my boyfriend.”

“That’s a shame”, Blaine said and turned around to leave again. “You are perfect for each other.”

“He is on his way to Venice”, Mercedes commented without answering on his remark.

“This night? Without trains or flights?” Blaine seemed to be surprised, but then, he smiled knowingly. “Wait a second.”, he shouted before he left.

As soon as he was gone, Mercedes’ smile disappeared. Saying out loud Anthony’s name had brought back memories about their breakup in Paris.

“Anthony”, she whispered and sighed loudly. Things would definitely be easier with him by her side. How could he dump her and make her get through this catastrophe all alone? That was inexcusable. But then, she realized that it didn’t matter whether she forgave him.

Because Anthony had left her. And she was on her own now.

“Whether I can get coffee at this place?”

Mercedes turned around and spotted Kurt. He looked pale and kind of tired, but still more elegant than she could ever be.

She jumped up and pulled him into a hug. “Kurt! Are you okay? What have they done to you?”

He softly pulled away from her and grimaced. “Don’t. I am fine. Something like that never happened before, and I am so ashamed. I can’t believe we lost so much time because of that nonsense.”

Mercedes waved it off, trying her best to sound relaxed and calm to cheer him up a bit. “Don’t worry about that. We all have a bad day sometimes.”

“ _Bad day?_ ”, Kurt said exasperatedly. “I never _ever_ hurt a woman or tried to do it! I acted crazy, there is no excuse for that! I don’t even remember it, but that’s no excuse either!”

Desperate, Mercedes searched for reassuring words. “Listen, we all know that it was a blooper”, she lied. “We were all worried you would harm yourself, that’s all. But you are fine now, right?”

She needed to bend down to look into his eyes that stared down the floor. “Right?”

Kurt looked up. “I apologized to the flight attendant, and she was so kind to accept it.”

“That’s great…”

“But I will never forgive myself! I need some kind of therapy, some…”

“Coffee?”, a sexy voice with Russian touch cut him off.

Kurt turned around. “Blaine!”

The glances both guys exchanged let Mercedes forget her worries for a moment.

“I…erm…gonna go ask whether there are flights…”, she said, but nobody seemed to listen to her anyway. “You can give each other an update in the meantime, and please watch over the dress.”

“You need to tell me everything”, Blaine insisted. “I will leave that appalling airline! We are going to sue them!”

“Bye…” Mercedes wanted to withdraw.

“No! I was an idiot, such a stupid idiot”, Kurt answered him back, and Blaine pulled him into a hug.

Mercedes inhaled deeply, theatrically pointed at the exit and shouted: “Oh, look at that! A dancing elephant!”

No one reacted. But at least, she could smile again when she went towards the counter for information on the other end of the terminal.

Which was closed.

A handwritten sheet of paper was hanging on the glass pane, saying in five languages: N _o information concerning flights until tomorrow, 6 am. Thank you._

Mercedes looked around. The terminal looked pretty deserted. The coffeeshops, souvenir corners and – more importantly – the counter for rental cars were behind barred metal grids in the dark. The annunciator panels were pitch black.

On the way back to Kurt, Blaine and their luggage, Mercedes started wondering which plastic stools were the most comfortable ones for sleeping. It was already midnight. Six hours left until the information counter would open again.

Kurt and Blaine were having an animated conversation, everyone who passed them would think that they know each other for years. Even their body language was similar. They way they cocked their heads, the hand movements, how they touched each other. Kurt was about to tell him about his martyrdom in the provisional prison cell.

“I wasn’t even allowed to go to the toilet. And then, just like that”, he snapped with his fingers “they acted totally differently. Too friendly for my taste, apologized a hundred times, took care of the documents in a hurry so that I could leave – _incroyable_!”

“The influence of a powerful man”, Blaine muttered. “The police officer told me that this gentleman has been quite charming.”

“Oh, Antoine can be charming”, Kurt said somewhat icily. “If he wants to.”

“That man allegedly has explained the situation and has been, well, normal. Isn’t it weird that the most powerful people are the less complicated ones?”

Kurt snorted. “Antoine? Less complicated? I doubt that. The policemen probably have heard what they wanted to hear – or they admire the House of Décoste.”

“Who doesn’t?”, Blaine asked, winking.

Mercedes rolled her eyes and grinned. That flatterer!

“He must think a great deal of you”, Blaine thought out loud.

Kurt shook his head. “He is just worried about his reputation. I am just a tiny cog in his gear wheel.”

“A tiny cog? I am sure you are more than that.”

“Sorry for interrupting.” Mercedes decided that she didn’t want to wait any longer.

“Oh, sorry!” Like two naughty teenagers that got caught kissing, both of them straightened up and listened to what she had to say.

“We are stuck at this place until tomorrow”, she declared.

“I see.” Kurt didn’t seem to be that disappointed.

“What a shame.” Neither did Blaine. “I will bring you to one of the best hotels of this town”, he suggested, thrilled. “I know one that is ideal for us. I can lend one of the cars of the airport.”

Kurt was hooked and grabbed his fabulous suitcase. “Shall we?”, he beamed, nodding to the exit.

“Let’s go!” Blaine hurried to the exit door; Kurt followed him enthusiastically.

 _If you don’t mind me disturbing you_ , Mercedes thought and tiredly brought up the rear.

…

 **Hours left until the wedding** : 35  
 **Miles left until Venice:** 356

Mercedes woke up after she had slept miserably. She sat up when she heard the strong wind from outside and rubbed her eyes. She needed an instant to know where she was.

“Shit!”

When the nightmare of the previous day came to her mind, she lied back down again. It was ten before six now. She needed to take care of their flight.

Ten minutes later, she was standing at the reception of the hotel, dressed up and showered, pleading the lady to let her use the computer to look for the next flights. Luckily, the recepetion lady could speak English perfectly and listened to her understandingly.

“I know that place better than you”, she said, still smiling. “Let me do that.”

“Thank you so much!” Mercedes wanted to hug that lady. She sat down on one of the armchairs next to the fireplace and waited.

Despite the unearthly hour, a lot of people were already up. In the restaurant, breakfast was already served and around Mercedes, people were conversing in different languages.

“I have good news.” Beaming, the reception lady showed her the display.

“Great!” Mercedes jumped up.

“You won’t believe it, but today, there is one flight with one place left.”

“Yes!” That was awesome.

“And you are lucky because I got you that last place.”

Mercedes rubbed her temples. “But I need two places.”

The lady’s face fell. “But you are here alone.”

“No, not really. My companion is with, erm, a friend. I am so sorry, but could you check it again?”

While the reception lady did it, Mercedes went up and down nervously. Finally, the lady showed her the display again. There was indeed only one place left.

“Shall I reserve it for you anyway?”, she asked.

What other choice did she have? “Yes, please.”

“Your name, please?”

“Mercedes…oh.” Something came to her mind. “Hang on…”

Considering her history with Coralee, it would be for the best if Kurt brought her the dress. Besides, he needed time for the final adjustments on the dress, and Coralee had made it clear that she didn’t want Mercedes to do it.

“I don’t know”, she said, thinking intensely “Who among us should take the place.”

“Okay.” The reception lady nodded patiently. “Let me know after you have taken a decision. But you better hurry, that place will certainly be taken soon.”

What was she supposed to do now? Mercedes didn’t know who should fly to Italy, so she retrieved her phone from her jeans and did what she always had done in the past whenever she needed some piece of advice: She called her mother.

“Mercedes? Everything okay? It’s six am…”

Her mother’s voice sounded sleepy.

“I am fine, mom. Sorry I woke you up.”

“Oh, it’s alright. Lately I don’t sleep much anyway.”

Mercedes rolled her eyes. “Excited because of the wedding, hm?”

Silence.

“I heard of the flight and the emergency landing. That’s horrible, baby. Are you in Venice now?”

“Almost. I am still in Switzerland. There is a flight at noon…” She paused before she continued talking. “But there is a problem. There is only one place left.”

“And what’s the problem?”

“Don’t you think that Kurt should take it? He will make the final fitting of the dress, and Coralee flips out if he isn’t there.”

“Sorry, Mercedes, but I can’t follow. What will _you_ do if you don’t get onto that plane?”

“I will think of something. Hitchhike or hike or something like that. I am sure Coralee wouldn’t care if I was not at her wedding in time.”

“Don’t be silly, Mercy!” Her mother sounded angry. Angrier than back then when Mercedes came home at three am as a sixteen-year-old. “Since when is Coralee’s wedding only about the dress?”

“Erm…from the first day on?”, Mercedes couldn’t suppress that comment. “I for one would know my priorities if I married in a customized dress by Antoine Décoste.”

“Nonsense. About family, Mercedes. That’s, what counts.” To Mercedes’ horror, Phyllis had started crying. “Seriously: You need to be there on time! You are her only sister. Screw that dumb dress!”

“Mom!” Mercedes was outraged. _Screw that dumb dress?_ Had her mother completely lost her mind? “I…are you alright?”

“Yes, yes. I feel great. But you and Coralee…you are all I have…”

“I am sorry, mom, I didn’t want to upset you.”

“I need to hang up, blow my nose. Call me later again, okay? Bye, sweetie.”

“Mom?”

But she had already hung up. Mercedes slumped down on one of the sofas of the lounge and buried her face in her hands. She should have known how her mother would react after she had mentioned the dress. Her mother just didn’t get how important it was that the dress fitted perfectly. She probably never would.

The reception lady looked over to her, probably having heard the conversation, and shouted: “So I will call the airport again, right?”

“Thanks”, Mercedes muttered. “That would be great.”

She wondered whether it was too early to go see Kurt. But at this moment, she heard a familiar voice on the stairs. Someone was having a phonecall in English. She felt her neck prickling when she turned around and spotted the heinous knit sweater. How could it be…?

“Sam?”

He turned around and looked at her, equally surprised.

“Mercedes?”

“You are supposed to be in Venice now!”

“As if I didn’t know.”

“What happened?” She got up and went towards him, kind of shyly, not trying to think about how tired she probably must look.

“I couldn’t get away from here last night”, he answered. “No flights, not trains, no cars. What a nightmare.”

“And how did you end up here?”

“Do you remember Blaine, the flight attendant? He recommended that hotel and even drove me to that place.”

“I understand.” So Blaine tried playing matchmaker? But she kept that assumption to herself. Sighing, she ruffled her hair. “I must look horrible.”

“No, not at all.”, Sam said quietly and looked away, trying to hide his blush.

Nobody dared to say anything for a while.

Mercedes broke the silence eventually. “Do you have a place at the airplane that will take off at twelve am? Can you imagine that there is only one free place?”

“You can’t be serious. Only one?”, he cut her off. “I need to get it.”

Before Mercedes could say anything, he had retrieved his phone again and hurried to the exit. “After this circus, the airport is on speed dial on my phone.”

“Wait!”, Mercedes shouted. “I try getting Kurt because we didn’t book a flight either…”

But Sam was already too far away to hear her. Mercedes could only stare at him from afar. _He couldn’t be serious!_

“Good morning, Miss Mercedes Jones.”

Kurt was standing behind her, straightening out nonexistent wrinkles of his expensive looking blazer. With his impeccable look, it was hard to believe that it was the same guy of the day before.

“Good morning, Kurt. How are you?”

“So much better than I deserve. I had a great night.”

“That’s nice.” Mercedes forced herself to smile.

He grimaced. “I won’t act up today.”

Of course, Mercedes wondered whether he had spent the night with a certain flight attendant, but Kurt didn’t mention anything, and Blaine was nowhere to be seen.

“When do we have to be at the airport?”

“That’s the problem.”, Mercedes answered. “There is only one flight, and all places are already taken…”

Kurt’s face lit up. “All places are taken? That’s great news. Do you see the weather? No one who is sane enough would get onto a plane – that would be suicide.”

Even though Kurt wasn’t that wrong – strong wind and a blizzard made it unable to see one’s own hand – Mercedes got the feeling that Kurt kind of lost sight of their initial mission.

“We need to be in Venice tomorrow at the latest, Kurt.”

“Of course”, he agreed shortly.

The reception lady had heard their conversation and glanced at her display. “The last place is taken!”

Mercedes looked over to Sam who was still talking over his phone.

“Excuse me.” Kurt strutted over to the woman, took her hand as if it was the most precious thing he had ever held in his hands and kissed it softly. “Madame, may I congratulate you to your beautiful hotel? I spent a perfect night at this place.”

The reception lady looked like she would faint any moment. Kurt had turned into the neat charmer Mercedes had met back then at Antoine’s boutique. His entire demeanor had changed, he seemed to be taller and radiated an aura of authority. Something must have done him good last night, or rather, _someone_.

“It’s my pleasure, Monsieur”, the receptionist flirted. “Is there something I can do for you?”

Kurt waved off. “Madame, I wouldn’t know what you could add to that perfection of hospitality I enjoyed so far.”

He turned to Mercedes. “My employee and I would try to get a connection to Venice to her sister’s wedding. But please, please don’t concern yourself with that mere nothing.”

The lady took the bait. “Maybe I could help you…”

Kurt feigned indignation. “Madame! You are so busy, it’s unimaginable to inconvenience you like that.”

“But I insist!”, she piped. “You need to go to Venice, right?”

Kurt nodded hesitantly, still pretending that their small problem was not worth wasting her oh-so precious time.

“Then you have to get to Domodossola to get a train. And I will send someone who will get you to that city.”

Mercedes leaned against the wall, crossing her arms and watching Kurt with admiration.

“Domo…” With a blank face, Kurt frowned.

“Domodossola – that’s a city on the other end of the Simplon Pass.”

“Is it far away?”

The reception lady paused. “No.” She looked out of the window. “But the weather is not that optimal, so you need to leave as soon as possible. I insist that our driver will bring you there with our hotel’s minibus.”

“Oh, Madame!” Kurt retrieved a handkerchief and patted dry his eye. “You are too friendly.”

She beamed like a schoolgirl who had been praised because of her good grades. “No, no, it’s my pleasure. Our driver is on his way to pick up our chambermaids, but he will be back soon. Why don’t you- and your employee- eat breakfast in the meantime?”

“Madame, I will never forget what you have done for us.” Kurt took her hand for the second time and kissed it.

“You are welcome.” The reception lady smiled at him.

Mercedes was also smiling. _Kurt, you sly dog!_

“Unfortunately, there is another thing I need to do”, Kurt confessed and leaned over the counter.

“Yes?” The lady expectantly bit her lower lip.

“Flowers”, Kurt said. “I need to get flowers.”

“But no, Monsieur, you don’t need to, that belongs to the service.”

“Oh, but there is a special lady”, Kurt explained. “A lady I… _met_ yesterday and I want to send her flowers. Her name is Galina and she is working for an airline.”

Five minutes later, Mercedes was enjoying her breakfast when Kurt joined her. He shook his head. “The nice lady has been less nice when we talked about the flowers, but in the end, she did it.”

Mercedes bit back the comment that it might have something to do with him mentioning another woman.

“Good. Eat some breakfast, it’s going to be a long day. I will go outside and check whether the minibus already arrived.”

There was no bus far and wide, but on one of the sofas in the lobby, Sam was sitting, sending texts with a frown. When Mercedes went towards him, he looked up.

“Shouldn’t you be on the way to the airport?”, Mercedes asked him. “The airplane will take off soon.”

He breathed out, sighing. “I could ask you the same. I didn’t get the ticket.”

“What?”

“Someone else was thirteen seconds faster than me. Looks like I need to find another way to get to Venice.” He smiled and got up. “So I will say it again: It was nice having met you. I hope your next flight won’t be as disastrous as the one yesterday.”

He held out his hand.

Suddenly, realization dawned on Mercedes. “You thought we already had tickets?”

Sam looked confused.

“That’s why you stormed off to get the last one!”

“Wait, do you want to say that the both of you don’t have a ticket either?”

Mercedes shook her head.

“Oh no!” He facepalmed. “You must have thought that I am a big jerk!”

“Ermm…no comment.” Mercedes grinned. “But Kurt sweet-talked the reception lady. We will be chauffeured with the hotel’s minibus to Domodossola or something. There are trains driving from that city.”

He leaned forward curiously. “Did you just say minibus?”

She nodded smugly.

“And how many places do you think do you need for the wedding dress and that huge designer suitcase?”

“I think if we scoot closer to each other you could go on board as well. Or we will strap you on the roof as long as you promise not to sing hiking songs.”

Mercedes unexpectantly felt happy when she thought about that they would spend more time together, even though the spirit of the oh-so great _Jasmine_ was menacingly hovering over him.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another update after a long time...Sorry, guys xD
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own anything.

**Hours left until the wedding** : 31  
**Miles left until Venice:** 260

It was like in one of those James Bond movies. When the mini bus drove across the icy streets of the Simplon Pass, Mercedes was scared they would fall down the acclivity any moment because the vehicle was skidding dangerously.

“Will we arrive soon?”, she asked anxiously.

“No, weather really bad”, the driver answered.

The only one who seemed to be in a good mood was Kurt. “Better than to sit in an airplane over the clouds”, he said, beaming. “If we get into an accident, there is at least a chance that we survive. We would be hurt badly, but at least something, right?”

Mercedes exchanged glances with Sam and they both needed to bite back their laughter.

“Kurt?”, Sam said.

“Yes?”

“Do you see the door?”

“Yes?”

“Would you please stay away from it? Galina isn’t there to keep you away if you flip out.”

“Ha ha, really funny.” But in fact, Kurt was laughing as well.

Outside, it looked like Mercedes had seen it in all the cliché postcards of the alps. All the trees were snowhite, there were lodges out of wood every now and then, the streets were covered with snow as well.

“Do you like skiing?”, Mercedes asked Sam. The latter one shook his head.

“As someone from New Zealand, I never really understood the appeal. Moving around on two sticks in colored sleepers – no thanks. And you?”

Mercedes chuckled. “I hate it. But you are wrong considering the clothes.”

“I knew you would say that.”

“The technique of producing these clothes are just amazing.”

Sam rolled his eyes. “If you say so…”

“But that’s the truth! The materials are lighter, but warmer so that you can move around more easily.”

“Skiers look like big babies”, Sam muttered.

Mercedes laughed. “I won’t change your mind about that, right?”

“Highly improbable.”

“My Décoste skiing collection for the next season has accents inspired by Alexander Jacobs’ collection”, Kurt commented. “I call it _Decoluxe_.”

“ _Your_ collection?”, Mercedes asked teasingly.

Kurt just grimaced and bit his lower lip.

“Oh, look!” Mercedes pointed at a car that was about to fall down the cliff.

“I hope the passengers are fine.”, Sam said, frowning. “What if…oh!”

At this moment, the bus was skidding towards the cliff as well.

“Oh my gosh!” Mercedes clutched Sam’s arm in panic. The driver countersteered and somehow could get the bus back to the road again.

“Phew, well done”, Sam said and patted the busdriver’s shoulder.

He shook his head. “Not good”, he muttered, concentrating on the road in front of him.

At this moment, a lot of cars from the opposite direction passed them.

“That’s good, right?”, Kurt said. “The streets up there need to be free, from where else do these cars come from?”

It didn’t took them long to realized from where exactly the cars came from. When they continued driving, they saw a small bus turnout where all the cars before them could turn their vehicles. Because the snow drift in front of them made it clearly impossible to continue driving, the streets were covered with knee high snow, the blizzard made it impossible to see anything.

Sam and Mercedes exchanged worried glances, Kurt shook his head when he looked out of the window.

That was it. End of the trip.

The driver looked over to the trio behind him. “I’m sorry.”, he said. “It’s over for me.”

Mercedes was disappointed. But she didn’t even try to convince him, it was hopeless. Even if they continued driving, up there would be even more snow.

“That’s relatable” Sam sighed. “I wouldn’t dare to continue driving either.”

“We need to return to the hotel and think of another way to get to Venice”, Kurt spoke up.

Mercedes buried her face in her hands and groaned. “Coralee will _fully_ understand.” Not in the slightest.

The blizzard got worse and worse. Back in Lima or even in New York, Mercedes experienced a lot of snowstorms, but not like that one. This was close to a natural disaster.

“Well, I won’t give up”, Sam declared all of a sudden. “We already came that far, and I need to get to Venice. And so do you two.”

“Sam, the streets are blocked”, Mercedes pointed out. “So if you don’t have a teleporter like in _Star Trek_ to teleport us to that place…Sam? Where are you going?”

He had opened the door and climbed out. Then, he turned to Mercedes and grinned impertinently.

“Over there is a house. Do you see it?”

Mercedes got out as well, glad that she had put on some warm clothes that day. Snowflakes were falling down her face.

“Yes, but…”

“People don’t live at places like this one without being prepared for extreme situations. I will walk over and talk to them – maybe, they have a cross country vehicle or something like that.”

“Okay”, Mercedes answered indecisively. “I bet you would like some dumb high-tech skiing equipement now, right?”

“To hell with that”, he said and pointed at his knit sweater which was already covered with snow. “If wool is good enough for sheep, it’s good enough for me as well!”

He trudged through the snow to the direction of the house, but then, he turned around and shouted: “Kurt!”

“Yes?” Kurt had just retrieved his expensive looking designer fur coat from his suitcase and was putting it on.

“Are you coming with me?”, Sam asked. “Maybe, they only speak French.”

Kurt closed his suitcase and followed Sam through the snow, not trying to slip.

“I will come as well” Even though Mercedes was wearing thousands of layers of clothes , her teeth were clattering. “We won’t take long!”, she shouted to the busdriver, but her voice was drowned out by the blizzard.

Halfway to the house, they heard how doors behind them were slammed and the tires of a car.

Frozen to the spot, the three of them turned around slowly. The driver had put all of their luggage including the dress on the snow next to the street, honked and drove down the mountain.

“ _Merde_ ”, Kurt muttered.

“You can say that again.”, Mercedes agreed. “Come on, let’s get the luggage, or else, the dress will be a mess.”

They went back and took all of their suitcases and bags. Mercedes relievedly noticed that the dress bag seemed to be fine, luckily, the material was waterproof.

“Let’s go”, Sam said, pointing at the house. “And see what awaits us at that place.”

“Or else, we are going to freeze to death”, Kurt added, shaking his head.

The trio stumbled and half slided through the snow until they arrived in front of the woody entrance door.

“That’s how horror movies start”, Mercedes commented. “Maybe, we will get killed now.”

“Are you always so optimistic?”, Sam wanted to know.

“Sorry.”

“Those shoes are not made for snow”, Kurt complained.

Sam rolled his eyes. When he knocked on the door, a middle aged man opened it. He seemed to be not that surprised by their visit.

“ _Bonjour_.”

“Do you speak English?”, Sam asked him. “Or French?”

The man nodded and answered in English: “What happened? Did you get into an accident?”

Mercedes sighed relievedly. The last thing they needed was a communication problem.

“Atually, we didn’t”, Sam answered and held out his hand. “Sam Evans. And these are my friends Mercedes…”

“…Jones and Kurt Hummel.”, she ended his sentence.

“Chevalier”, the man introduced himself dryly and shook Sam’s hand. “Please enter, let’s leave the weather outside.”

They brushed as much snow from the clothes as they could and gratefully followed the man to the warm hallway. On the walls were a lot of maps, a couple of walkie talkies were lying on the racks which red lights were blinking every now and then.

While Sam told him what had happened, the man shook his head.

“We wondered”, Sam ended the story “whether you could help us cross the pass so that we could get to Domodossola.”

“I can’t get away from here”, Chevalier explained and shrugged “I am coordinating the rescue service.”

“I see”, Sam nodded. “That’ a problem.”

“Anyway”, Chevalier pointed out of the window “The weather is too bad to leave. Look!”

There was no need for Mercedes to look out of it because she had seen it with her own eyes not long ago, but she turned around obediently. The blizzard had covered the windows with snowflakes, it looked worse than before.

“The only way you could cross the pass would be by snowmobile. But even this is…”

“Do you know where we can get one?”, Mercedes asked.

The man hesitated.

“Sir”, Sam spoke up. “Do you have one you could borrow us?”

“Or sell us?”, Mercedes added. Money shouldn’t matter at this mission.

“Well, I have one. But I can’t give it to you.”

Silence.

“Why not, Monsieur?”, Kurt asked, making his best puppy dog eyes. “You can trust us not to destroy it.”

“No”, Chevalier shook his head.

“Sir”, Sam said “We are aware that this is a big favor, but we will treat your snowmobile right.”

“And we are stuck at this place”, Mercedes reminded him.

Sam threw her a glance that told her to let him to that. Mercedes grimaced, but was ignored by him.

“I guess there is only one way down to the Simplon Pass, right?”

Chevalier nodded.

“Do you know anyone down there? You can call him and make sure we don’t just leave. And we can give the snowmobile back to this person as well.”

Chevalier seemed to think about it. “I’m sorry, but I don’t make deals like that.”

Mercedes’ hope was gone.

“I will tell you something”, Sam said after a while. “Can we talk, only the two of us? I have a good reason why you would want to agree to all this.”

Chevalier hesitated. He looked to Mercedes and back to Sam before he nodded.

“This way”, he said coolly and pointed at his office on the other end of the hallway.

Sam followed him and the door was closed behind them. Mercedes wondered what Sam would offer to that man. The leading part in his next movie? A kidney? Both would be worth it.

“I never have been in a snowmobile”, Mercedes explained to Kurt.

“Me neither”, Kurt answered.

She could hear how Sam and Chevalier were talking but didn’t understand what exactly they were saying. At least, their tone stayed friendly.

“I don’t care whether I will be on time at Coralee’s wedding.”, Mercedes commented. ”She wouldn’t even notice if I looked like a clown – or didn’t show up. But if the dress is not in bridezilla’s arms before Monday, she will destroy the entire city.”

“Is your family’s relationship really that bad?”, Kurt asked compassionately.

“Yes!”, Mercedes answered immediately. “No, actually, it isn’t. Or it is, somehow…”

Kurt leaned forward and pulled her into a short hug. Mercedes felt tears well up. “I know that mom and Coralee love me”, she explained with a trembling voice. “And I love them as well. It's just that it's always about Coralee, even before dad has left us. I always wanted that to change, but I always messed it up. I am such a goof.”

“Goof?” Kurt didn’t understand that American expression.

“You know, the clown in the family”, Mercedes explained.

“But that’s not true”, he said softly.

“Yes, it is. Since the day I broke the musical box, I…”

Luckily for her, the door of the office reopened, and Sam entered the hallway. Chevalier had laid his arm around him as if they were bros and explained to him how the brakes of the snowmobile worked.

“Okay”, Sam nodded.

“I will go get the keys”, Chevalier smiled. “Wait an instant, please.”

“He agreed?”, Mercedes gasped. “Sam, you are a hero!” She pulled him in a hug, but then, she pulled away again and blushed slightly.

Sam cleared his throat; the hug had surprised him as well. “Yes, he did. We can drive down to the post station of Varzo. From that town, there is a bus to Domodossola.”

“Can you drive that thing?”, Kurt asked somewhat skeptically.

Sam shrugged. “Is ‘Maybe’ enough as an answer? I drove something similar.”

“That’s enough for me”, Mercedes assured him. “How much did you pay him? We will share the costs, okay?”

Sam frowned. “Why do you think I paid for it?”, he wanted to know and turned away.

“Because I wasn’t born yesterday!”

Sam pinched his nose. “There was no money involved.”

"But how...?"

At this moment, Chevalier returned with keys in hand. “Shall we?”

They followed him out of the house to the coldness Mercedes found worse than before, probably because her clothes were still wet. He led them to his garage and opened the door.

A black jetboat, modified for snowy weather came into view.

Stunned, Mercedes stared at the vehicle. “ _That’s_ it?” She didn’t know whether to laugh or cry at the sight of that thing.

“That’s it”, Chevalier confirmed proudly. “ _Votre chariot, Mademoiselle_.”

Mercedes came closer to have a look at it. “I have seen bigger lawn movers than that!”

Kurt didn’t seem that thrilled either. “And how do we put all the luggage inside it? This isn’t even big enough for the three of us”

“Don’t worry about that”, Chevalier said quickly. “I always use this.”

He carefully put down a plastic thing from the racks next to them that kind of looked like a ironing board.

“Voila, my stretcher”, he said proudly. “You can put your luggage inside it and drag it after you.”

“You are kidding, right?”, Mercedes panted.

Sam threw her a killing glance. “Do you have a better idea?”

“A couple of years ago, I took part on a cresta run in Celerina”, Kurt said and rubbed his hands. “On a birthday party of a good friend. It wasn’t that bad, maybe because I had already drunk a couple of cocktails.” He winked at Mercedes. “Come on, a little adventure will do us good!”

“Kurt!” Mercedes was speechless. “You need to be on my side now. Antoine's designer dress on a stretcher? Are you out of your mind?”

“Not as much as on the plane”, he countered. “And I can iron every wrinkle once we are in Venice, don’t worry.”

Mercedes ran out of arguments. Chevalier retrieved three helmets and three protection gloves. Kurt and Mercedes fixed the luggage to the stretcher and carefully put the dress on top. Now, it looked more like a body bag that was about to be taken away from a crime scene.

In the meanwhile, Chevalier explained to Sam how the snowmobile worked. Finally, they dragged it outside and Sam fixed the stretcher to the vehicle with Chevalier helping him.

“Are you sure it’s fixed?”, Mercedes asked insecurely.

“Yes”, Sam nodded shortly, “I am good at things like that. Now, get on board, everyone.”

He waved at Chevalier and got onto the front seat. Mercedes got in behind him and Kurt behind her. The snowmobile was only for two people, so they were all pressed to each other. When she put her arms around Sam’s waist, she could feel his warm body against hers, and it didn’t feel uncomfortable at all. _Hello there, muscles!_

Sam turned on the engine, and they drove off.

Chevalier jogged next to them a few feet and shouted to Sam how to accelerate and how to steer. Soon, they were speeding down the mountain. Jammed between Sam and Kurt, Mercedes turned her head to see whether the dress was still okay. The stretcher was skidding after them, but everything seemed to be fine.

That was by far the most surreal experience in her life.

Now that Chevalier was out of sight, they were on their own. The storm wasn’t that strong anymore, and it had stopped snowing. But all the snow on the streets was already enough to block the traffic for a long, long time.

Even though the snowmobile was fully charged, it was pretty fast and they could drive through the snow without problems.

“Is everyone okay?”, Sam shouted.

“Not so fast!”, Kurt shouted back, but Mercedes doubted that Sam could hear it due to the loud engine. She clutched Sam’s abs tighter and enjoyed his tensed muscles.

The snowmobile got faster and faster because of the steeply sloping mountain.

“Woooow!” Mercedes realized that it had been her who had cheered. “That’s amazing!” A shiver was running down her spine. “Better than any carousel!”

Kurt behind her was laughing as well. They continued driving and followed the snowy street down to Varzo. Mercedes needed to think about her time in college. Back then, she wanted to travel across Europe and adventure. That she would sit on a snowmobile with a designer dress, a movie maker and Décoste’s right-hand-man, driving across the alps was beyond her imagination.

The snow on the ground became less and less the closer they got to Varzo – and a scratching noise made Mercedes look back. The stretcher was skidding after them dangerously, they needed to drive slower or else, it would tip over eventually.

“Sam!”, she shouted.

He didn’t hear her.

“Slow down!”

Suddenly, there was a loud, not good sounding noise, and Kurt shouted: _“Stop!”_

Appalled, Mercedes watched how the stretcher’s ropes ripped and how the stretcher was gliding down the mountain in a dangerously fast way, as if it had its own engine.

To the _wrong_ direction.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's been a while since the last update, I know, and I am sorry...
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own anything.

**Hours left until the wedding:** 28 **  
Miles left until Venice:** 248

“Sam! Stop!”, Mercedes screamed into his ear. She didn’t dare moving her hand away from his waist to tip on his shoulder. Another panic glance to the back told her that the stretcher was getting faster and faster.

“Sam!”

When he didn’t react again despite her and Kurt’s shouts, Mercedes got an idea. She put off her left glove, put her hand underneath Sam’s sweater and touched him on his warm skin.

“OHMYGOSH!” When Sam braked, snow got blown into their faces, but the vehicle eventually stopped. “Are you nuts?”, he said, sounding pissed. “This is not the time for stupid jokes. You could have killed us!”

“Look, over there!” Mercedes pointed at the stretcher that still glided down – right to the direction of a river.

“Dammit!” Sam turned the engine on again and started driving towards the river as well.

“Slow down!”, Mercedes yelled anxiously, but Sam ignored her completely, driving past a couple of trees in a dangerously fast way. Her heart was beating way too fast, and she clutched her hands tighter around Sam. How could he be so reckless? That idiot! He could kill them all!

Sam decided to take shortest – and most cliffy - way down.

“Watch out!”, Kurt yelled.

Mercedes buried her face into Sam’s shoulderblades. This wasn’t funny anymore. They sped down, right towards the river. She heard how Sam was cursing quietly, and when she looked up, she saw how he was leaning to the right where the stretcher was.

“Careful!”, Mercedes shouted.

Like a stuntman, Sam leaned over to the stretcher, trying to get a grip on it, Mercedes gripped him tighter so that he didn’t fall out of the snowmobile.

Even though he couldn’t get the stretcher, he could at least direct it to the other direction so that it wouldn’t drive into the river anymore.

Somehow, Sam made the snowmobile stop, and Mercedes put off her helmet, still stunned about what just happened. Kurt and Sam did the same while they watched the stretcher glide into a barn in a fast and uncontrolled way. A loud thud could be heard.

“No way”, Mercedes wheezed.

The snow underneath their feet was soft, watery and muddy.

“We need to walk the rest of the way”, Sam commented. “The snowmobile could get stuck in the slush.”

As fast as possible, the three of them ran down to the barn to where the stretcher had glided into.

“I am scared about what we will find in there”, Mercedes admitted when they went closer to the door. “The dress is probably pierced on a pitchfork, has been devoured by pigs or used by chicken as a…”

Kurt looked up. “Listen! Is it what I think it is?”

“Cowbells”, Sam explained to Mercedes and winked at her. “How swiss.”

When they finally came stumbling to the door of the barn and peeked around the corner, the first thing they saw were rear ends of light brown cows that had gathered around the stretcher and were looking at it with interest, nudging it with their humid noses. The bells around their necks were moving back and forth, harmonizing with their delighted moos.

Mercedes was horror stricken. The ground was covered with dirty slush, even dirtier hay and cow dung, right where the stretcher had stopped.

“NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”, she shrieked breathlessly. “Please do something, guys!”

“Allergy to animal hair”, Kurt explained apologetically, lifting his hands in surrender. “I can’t go. Besides, they could bite me. And this coat is out of cashmere, so…”

The cows got more courageous and started coming closer to the stretcher. Frankly speaking, Mercedes felt like crying out loud when some of the cattles started touching it with their horns.

“We need to go in there”, she decided.

“I don’t have experience with cows”, Sam confessed. “Can’t you just whistle so that they get out of our way?”

“Sure, if you are keen on panicked cows or what cows gone wild like to do”, Mercedes said sarcastically.

“Do you have a better idea?”, Sam asked her, arms crossed. “You are from Ohio, there are plenty of cows at this place…”

“The dress!”, Kurt cut him off, alarmed. “Please, just postpone that childish fight and do something!”

Three of the most courageous cows were about to tip over the stretcher, the dressbag with Coralee’s dress would fall down any moment.

Mercedes and Sam started running at the same moment. Even though Mercedes grew up in Lima, a rather rural town, she never had been that close to cows before. She knew that they could get aggressive, especially when panicked.

On the other hand – so was she. She needed to save that dress even if she would get killed while doing so.

“Calm down, ladies”, Sam tried talking to the cows in a soft tone while he approached them with Mercedes in tow. “Move your fat butts out of the way.”

“What a charmer”, Mercedes muttered. “Come on, girls, let’s stop this game”, she purred “That’s a customized Décoste dress and you…”

The cows and cattles ignored the intruders and continued toying with the stretcher. Mercedes spotted a pitchfork on the ground, grabbed it and continued her foray.

Sam looked concerned. “Do you want to stab them all? Someone’s in the mood for steak on a stick?”

“Really funny”, Mercedes hissed. “Now continue walking.”

“The dress is probably ruined anyway”, Kurt whined “Cow saliva on Haute Couture? That’s never going to be a bestseller in Paris. _Quel désastre_!”

“Not helping, Kurt”, Mercedes shouted.

She somehow could sneak around the animals who still tried tipping over the stretcher. She just needed to push herself between them so that Sam could pull out the stretcher….

Sam seemed to have understood her plan. Carefully, he tried getting as close to the cows as possible.

“Excuse me, ladies, but I need to get past you if you let me…” She was almost there “I guess your English is not that good, but please know that I don’t want to hurt you.”

“It’s tipping over!”, Sam shouted.

Mercedes looked down. The three annoying cows were still trying to move the stretcher and the dress was slowly gliding down to the mud.

“Leave! Get your dirty asses out of here!”, Mercedes screamed, moved forwards to the stretcher and lifted the pitchfork warningly. “Get out before you end up as _steak tartare_!”

“Whoa, not so feisty”, Sam laughed.

But it seemed to work. The cows obediently walked out of the barn, Kurt needed to press himself closer to the door as they all left.

At that moment, Sam tripped and steadied himself on the dressbag so that he didn’t fall down.

“No!”, Mercedes protested. “You are ruining the dress!”

“Oh, really?”

The cows were gone, their cowbells could be heard from afar. Finally.

“So you would prefer if I fell right into cow shit?”

Downcast, Mercedes looked back and forth between the dressbag and Sam. _Please, please, let it be waterproof,_ she prayed to herself.

“You know what?” She grimaced. “Yes.”

They glared at each other, wheezing and pissed off. Mercedes resisted the urge to yell at him angrily. How did it even come that far?

Sam waved it off. “I will just clean it.”

“How do you know the dressbag didn’t get ripped? Or the dress didn’t get dirty?”

Equally pissed, Sam put his hands on his hips. “Thanks for asking, but I am fine. I almost broke my neck to save that thing, but…”

“You have no idea how much that dress means to me!”

“It’s just a dress, Mercedes. Just a darned dress”, he shouted. “If something like a simple dress means so much to you, you really have to question your values”

“What did you just say?” Mercedes was speechless. Beyond pissed, she turned away.

“Okay, maybe I was too harsh”, he admitted contritely.

“Absolutely!”, she answered, her voice was trembling.

Kurt was standing on the doorway and cleared his throat loudly. “I would enter and help you get out the stretcher, but I don’t think my coat would appreciate it.”

Mercedes threw him a killing glance. “Of course, Kurt, just stay put, no problem”, she said sarcastically.

Kurt got the hint. “Okay, okay.” Not looking thrilled, he carefully entered the barn.

“Watch out!”, Mercedes warned him, but it was already too late.

Kurt’s designer shoes were not made for the muddy ground of a barn. Like in all the comedy movies, he slipped- in Hollywood Style- and landed on the ground, falling right into the dirty hay-mud-cow dung mixture.

“ _Oh mon dieu_ ”, he gasped, appalled and tried getting up again. “Just look at me! No, better don’t!”

“Sorry, bro”, Sam shouted but he had a hard time biting back his laughter. “It’s kind of slippery in there, isn’t it?”

Much to Mercedes’ annoyance, he seemed to have forgotten that they were in a fight. Especially now that it seemed that she had been close to winning.

“So…”, Sam went on and turned to the stretcher. “Shall we?”

Mercedes watched him try to get the stretcher out of the barn, still mad.

“A little help over here wouldn’t be bad”, he muttered, so she offendedly walked over to him.

After they finally got it out of the barn, Mercedes stared down the stretcher that just looked sad with all the hay and dirt. With balled fists, she waited for Sam to apologize because he didn’t properly fix the stretcher on the snowmobile.

Finally, Sam broke the silence. “Let’s get the stretcher back to the snowmobile and hope that nothing got damaged.”

“I’m sure it’s damaged”, Mercedes hissed, outraged. “Don’t you get how important that is? Tell him, Kurt. Just look at the dressbag. The wedding dress of my sister! And _tomorrow_ is the wedding! You don’t take this serious, do you?” She furiously pointed at the dressbag. “Just because it doesn’t mean anything to you, it’s okay to treat it with no respect – to treat none of us with respect!”

That hit home. Saying nothing, but with a hurt face expression, Sam turned away.

“We should set off”, Kurt spoke up quietly. “Fighting won’t help us at all.”

At the snowmobile, Mercedes watched the guys fix the stretcher to the vehicle. Sam ignored her completely. She didn’t mind.

He showed Kurt the ripped rope. “Probably a sharp rock”, he speculated.

“There is no way you have fixed it properly”, Mercedes commented stubbornly. “Besides, you were driving way too fast. How could you?”

For a while, Sam stayed silent. “Maybe”, he said eventually. “Who knows? It’s not like I do something like this every day. I just want to get to Venice, just like you. And that’s the only way we can make it in time. So, shall we continue? It’s not far anymore.”

Mercedes didn’t look at him. “Fine!”, she said, still pissed.

When they sat on the snowmobile again and she felt Sam’s warm body next to her, it wasn’t exactly easy to stay pissed. But she did her best.

She tried sitting in the back, but Kurt didn’t want to switch places and get into the crossfire.

Great, if Sam wanted to be stubborn and childish, she could totally pass on him. He didn’t seem to get how valuable the dress was to Coralee, not only because of its price – a customized dress worth thousands of euros, almost ruined in a barn just because he obviously didn’t properly fix the stretcher…

And a couple of hours ago, she thought that she had a crush on him!

Funny how fast things could change.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoa, chill Mercedes lol
> 
> I am definitely siding with Sam this time...


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own anything.

**Hours left until the wedding:** 27 **  
Miles left until Venice:** 230

When they finally arrived at Varzo on the snowmobile, there was almost no snow on the road anymore. Turned out that Varzo was a picturesque valley hidden between the alps. Mercedes was grateful that there was still some snow on the ground, otherwise, they would have to carry the snowmobile. Funny how the problem one hour ago had been too much snow, now, it was almost the other way around.

They got everyone’s attention when they came sliding into the valley, and Mercedes wasn’t surprised at all. They really did look ridiculous: Three grown up people on a small snowmobile with a stretcher full of dirty luggage.

Mercedes grimaced under her helmet when she saw how people retrieved their phones and took photos.

Unbelievable how the weather could vary at different places. When she looked back up to the pass, she saw how dark clouds were surrounding the alps, the mountains were covered with glittery white snow.

The valley, on the other hand, was not that white, the sky was blue.

They stopped on a wide lawn, Mercedes’ muscles were aching when she got up and put down her helmet. Kurt looked at her in a pitiful way.

“Helmet hair”, he commented and brushed away a strand of her dark hair that was sticking to her face. “We need to take you to a stylist before you meet your future brother in law for the first time!”

Mercedes threw him a killing glance Behind her, she could hear how Sam bit back his laughter what made her more pissed.

“Can I tell you something?” She tried to sound calm and noticed with satisfaction that he braced himself.

“Just insult me if you have to”, Kurt sighed. “But I am right. A woman’s hairdo is her biggest asset.”

“Really?” Mercedes narrowed her eyes. “Not her mind?”

Kurt threw her a ‘Oh, come on, you know what I mean’-glance, but Mercedes was not in the mood.

“Concerning me, Kurt, the great Sergio Bellucci is nothing more than an extraordinarily happy man that will marry my sister tomorrow. And I don’t care whether I will look like a scarecrow if I meet him.”

“But you should care”, Kurt answered her back, slightly offended. “The first impression is the most important one.”

“No, it isn’t!”, Mercedes yelled. “At least not for normal people. Yes, Sergio is a celebrity in Europe, and that’s great for him. The only thing that counts to me is that he is a good guy.”

“Of course, Mercedes”, Kurt confirmed in a soft tone, but she wasn’t done talking.

“And I am looking forward to finding it out myself. If he comments my hairdo after all the crap I experienced only because of _his_ wedding, I will know _exactly_ what kind of person he is.”

Kurt gulped before he said: “I just thought, you would feel more at ease if…”

“Oh, and there’s something else!” Mercedes was still not done. She saw the grin on Sam’s face who was checking the stretcher – what didn’t make it better. “He may pay that dress, but you know what? That’s his privilege. It’s his wedding gift to my sister. If you believe that he is a high and mighty man for me and I need to look great just because he will be around, I need to disappoint you.”

“Alright.” Kurt bowed his head.

“And something else!”

"What else?” Kurt looked over to Sam, seeking help, but he just shrugged as if he wanted to say: _Sorry, bud, but you need to get through this alone._

“I am from Ohio. And the girls from Ohio know that there are more important things than hair.”

“Clothes, for example?”

The quiet remark came from Sam and Mercedes wasn’t even sure whether he had said it. Slowly, she turned to him, searching for a snarky comment so that he would never _ever_ piss her off again.

“Let me tell you something”, Kurt blurted out with a forced smile. “I will go search for the post office and you will wait here and relax a bit. I don’t trust your French; god knows where we will land if you ask for the way.”

Before Mercedes and Sam could say anything, he had rushed away in a hurry.

Mercedes turned away from Sam and tried calming down. While doing that, she looked down to the stretcher. To be fair, she needed to admit that her luggage was not as dirty as she imagined it. The majority of the snow and the hey had been blown away by the wind on their way down.

Nevertheless, she couldn’t wait to open the zipper of the dress bag, not only to check whether the dress was still okay, but also because she wanted to see it. It was weird how they carried around the dress without having looked at it even once.

But they couldn’t do it now, publicly, with all the dirty hands and Sam who stared at her and who would destroy the moment with a sarcastic comment.

“That was close to a disaster.”, she said to him, still not looking at him.

Sam checked the snowmobile.

“Really close” She held her breath and waited for his reaction.

Nothing. No apology. He seemed to ignore her.

“Sam?”

“Yes?” He still didn’t turn around.

Mercedes took a deep breath and spat it out. “I wish you would have fixed the stretcher properly – you almost ruined everything!”

He froze and turned around slowly. His face expression was unreadable. “Really? What a world-shaking catastrophe!”

“Save your sarcasm!”

Again, they stared at each other like two fighting cocks, their hands on their hips. Sam’s face was filthy, his hair was sticking to his face – but for some reason, she found it attractive – compared to how disgusting she must look.

“It’s just a dress, Mercedes, a stupid dress!”

“Stupid?”, Mercedes hissed. “How dare you calling it stupid – what a horrible word.”

“You called me stupid up there!”, he retorted.

“I didn’t.”

“You did!”

“Really?” Mercedes bit into her lower lip. Did she?

He nodded.

“Oh.” She couldn’t even remember.

Sam waited for her to say something.

“Well…” The apology was stuck in her throat and she stayed silent. Instead, she looked at the spectators on the street next to them.

Annoyed, Sam shook his head. “Come off it, Mercedes. I know that it is a wedding dress. But I think that you and your sister take this more seriously than it is.”

Mercedes was outraged. “Oh, really? Since when do you have the right to judge me and Coralee? Probably because you know us so well.”

He shook his head again. “Of course, I don’t, but it’s unbelievable you are so scared of her. It almost sounds like she was a princess that makes a fuss about a garment. She should be more worried about you arriving in Venice, safe and sound.”

“That dress makes her happy, Sam, and I am sorry you can’t understand this.” Mercedes tried her best to sound formal and disappointed. “I just try to make sure that this is going to be her perfect day.”

“To me, it looks like you wanted to prove her something.”

Mercedes narrowed her eyes. “What?” How the hell did he find out?

“Why don’t you just call your sister?”, he suggested. “Tell her about all the burning wheels you need to jump through?”

“I…I don’t want her to worry.” Mercedes was unable to look into his eyes. How could someone who didn’t even know her that much be so right about her relationship to Coralee?

“Okay, and what’s the real reason?”

All of a sudden, Mercedes wanted to tell him everything, the problems with her sister, how she didn’t properly process the breakup with Anthony yet, everything.

But she _wouldn’t_ cry.

“I…”

“Adventurous!” Kurt came back. “They are speaking such a weird dialect; I don’t understand them.” He looked back and forth between Sam and Mercedes and crossed his arms. “What now? Are you children still fighting? Sam? You first, please.”

“Everything is alright. Mercedes just thanked me for having brought us down the pass safely.”

Mercedes threw him a disdainful glance. “In two parts. Your contrivance fell apart, do you remember?”

“Shall we?” Kurt clapped his hands and went ahead to cross the street, Mercedes and Sam followed him like pouting kids.

Their appearance made the people look twice, not to mention their dirty snowmobile they dragged behind them with the stretcher in tow. They passed a bakery with good looking bread, cafés and a couple of shops where people could buy skiing equipment.

When they passed a hairdresser shop, Kurt nudged Mercedes. “We could take half an hour if you want to”, he teased her.

“Haha, really funny”, she growled but smiled a bit.

When they walked past a bank and heard people talk, realization dawned on her. The shops, the price tags, the language…

“People here talk Italian, Kurt”, she said quietly. “Not a rural weird dialect. I think you are living in Paris for too long.”

“Yes, you are right!” Kurt looked around. “I didn’t notice we already passed the border. They should mark the borderline with red color or something.” He facepalmed.

Mercedes patted his arm. “My mother lives in Italy for a few years, or else, I would have been confused as well.”

“You don’t need to make fun of me. I should have noticed it. After all, I once had dinner with Gianni Versace.”

“No!” Mercedes halted in her tracks.

“Yes!”

“How was he like?”, she squealed.

“Oh, extraordinarily adorable” Kurt beamed when he remembered that night. “It was at his mansion in Miami. Of course, we all spoke English, how could I notice we…”

Sam cleared his throat loudly, and Mercedes almost forgot that he was with them as well. “Look what we have here.”

In the meanwhile, they arrived in front of the post office.

“It’s closed”, Mercedes realized.

Sam looked back to the snowmobile behind them. “Shall we just bring it to the garden and go to the bus station?”, he suggested when he looked into the window. “Nobody’s there.”

“Wait” Mercedes had spotted a doorbell, so she pushed the red button.

A couple of minutes later, nothing had happened until they heard steps. An elderly man in a suit came into view.

“Whether this is Alexandre?”, Mercedes whispered to Sam.

“That’s me”, the man answered in English. Despite his age, his hearing was still excellent. “And you must be the adventurers my friend told me about – I already expected you. Did you have a nice drive down?”

“Yes”, Sam answered politely while Mercedes answered with an earnest “No”.

Alexandre looked at them with a smile. “Damages on the snowmobile?”

“None”, Sam answered.

“Really?” Alexandre looked at the snowmobile closer. It was dirty as hell and Mercedes felt kind of ashamed.

Sam followed his gaze. “Erm…Of course, I will help with cleaning it up. But it’s not damaged, I am serious.”

“There’s no need for it, I will just splash it”, Alexandre answered. “Take off your luggage and I will show you where to bring it.”

The put off their luggage, Mercedes pulled the dressbag closer to herself despite all the dirt. She and Kurt sat down on the bench while Sam and Alexandre brought the snowmobile to the backyard.

“Did you also think about that we will never make it to Venice?”, Mercedes asked.

Kurt nodded. “A couple of times.”

“I should be there by now, get a manicure or drink a glass of Cider with Coralee and reminisce about our childhood where we…well…” She trailed off, thinking about how impossible that scenario was even if the plane would have landed in Venice as planned.

Without a doubt, Coralee would have been fixated on every detail on her wedding. Since she and Sergio got engaged, micromanagement had been her full-time job. Yes, she had always been neat and petty, but this was close to obsession. The probability of having time to talk about childhood memories were slim.

“It’s…something else”, Kurt agreed. “I had a weird feeling about that trip from the beginning on, not only because of the flight.”

When she was about to ask what he meant, Sam and Alexandre returned with triumphant face expressions.

“It’s done”, Sam beamed and pumped his fist in the air.

Mercedes almost jumped up to hug him, she was so relieved. But she composed herself in time. Now, they would continue their trip with more civilized means of transport.

“Venice, we are coming!”, Kurt sighed. “Finally.”

“Is it far away until the bus stop?”, she asked.

Alexandre’s face fell. “Bus stop?”, he repeated. “No, it’s not.”

“Awesome”, Kurt said, good tempered. He got up.

“But why do you want to go to the bus station?”, Alexandre asked.

Mercedes looked at him with a frown. “To take the bus”, she laughed because of his stupid question.

“But it’s Sunday”, Alexandre pointed out.

Her stomach sank.

“Today, there are no busses”, he explained.

The three of them froze.

“Oh no”, Sam finally groaned.

“Are you sure?”, Mercedes asked, deflating.

Alexandre nodded apologetically.

Kurt only shook his head in disappointment. Sam sat down so close next to Mercedes she could feel the warmth of his body. Alexandre stepped from one foot to another and bit his lower lip.

“How far is it until Domodossola?”, she asked after a while. “We could catch the train to Venice. Are there taxis at this place?”

“That’s out of question” Alexandre rubbed his hands and smiled at them. “I have to get to that city anyway and can give you a lift.”

Mercedes’ face lit up again. “That would be great!”

“That’s so nice of you”, Kurt agreed.

“No problem”, Alexandre said. “I have to deliver something important on the way, but there is enough space for you in my delivery van.”

He pointed at the other side of the street where a big post van was parked and looked at their luggage.

“A suit?”, he asked, pointing at the dress bag.

“A wedding dress”, Mercedes corrected him. “My sister will marry tomorrow.”

“Oh, how wonderful! Congratulations to her.”

“Thanks.”

He frowned. “Would you let me pack it into a box before we put it into the van? It would be more protected.”

“I am thrilled. The more protected the better. It experienced a lot by now.” She nudged Sam while Alexandre carried it into the building. “Isn’t it great that people are treating other people’s things right?”

“Okay, I got it”, Sam muttered.

“Little joke”, she added when she noticed his discomfort.

“I already heard better ones”, he answered.

“I already told better ones”, Mercedes mumbled.

Fifteen minutes later, they were all sitting in the van, the luggage and the dress were in the trunk and they were driving across the valley.

“Someday, I will return and look at all that unhurriedly”, she said, gasping when she looked out of the window.

“So will I”, Sam agreed.

“Maybe, I will learn how to ski as well.”

Sam just shrugged.

“Does Jasmine ski?”, Mercedes asked. Not that she we interested in the answer. For sure, Jasmine was an Olympics-winning skier. And had perfect hair and great teeth.

Sam threw her a weird glance. “No”, he answered. “Where she comes from, people don’t really ski.”

“Yes, of course”, she nodded. In Hollywood, there were not that many alps to ski. Maybe Jasmine was a tanned, New Zealand surfer beauty. Or a sexy Hawaiian hula teacher. But she would never find out.

She was about to torture herself and ask more questions about her when the car stopped in front of a cozy looking house.

Alexandre turned around and beamed. “That’s the house of my son.”

“It’s pretty”, Mercedes said happily.

He smiled at her. “Thank you.”

The entrance door opened and a happy looking couple exited.

“My daughter in law, Penny”, Alexandre introduced them. “And her husband, my son Giovanni.”

Penny came rushing over to them to hug her father-in-law. Mercedes needed to smile because of that. It was heart warming how close they seemed to be. It made her miss her own mother.

She looked into the house and spotted balloons that were floating up. A girl in a purple dress was jumping around in the hallway.

Alexandre explained everything to his daughter-in-law in Italian. In perfect English, she shouted to the trio: “Please, enter! You are more than welcome.”

A quick exchange of glances with Sam and Kurt confirmed to Mercedes that they were all thinking the same. They really didn’t have that much time.

“Thank you very much, but no thanks”, Sam answered. “We need to…”

“Grandpa! Grandpa!”

The little girl came running out of the house and threw herself into the arms of her grandpa. Alexandre happily kissed her forehead, whispered something into her ear and pointed at his guests. “That’s Vanessa, my grandchild, and today is her sixth birthday.”

“What a pretty girl”, Mercedes exclaimed. She knew that Alexandre liked to hear that, but she was serious. That girl was just lovely.

“Happy birthday, Vanessa!”

Coyly, the girl hid her head behind her grandpa’s leg.

“Please, enter!”, Alexandre insisted. “Eat just one piece of cake with us.”

Mercedes felt Sam’s and Kurt’s nervousness. She decided to take the initiative, got out of the car and went to Alexandre. “Thanks a lot, Alexandre, but we don’t want to disturb you and your family. Please go inside and celebrate with your granddaughter. Would you be so nice to give us the phone number of a taxi company? After that, we will leave you al…”

Alexandre facepalmed before she could end her sentence. “You are in a hurry, I should have known it. Let me just bring Vanessa her present and then, we will drive off.”

“I don’t want you to miss the party”, Mercedes answered him back.

“It won’t take long, it’s not far away. Let me do that favor for you.”

Mercedes didn’t know what to say for a while. “Thank you so much”, was the only thing that came into her mind.

She got into the car while Alexandre took the present out of the trunk and carried it into the house. They could hear how the girl screamed delightedly and the laughter of her parents.

“Is it only me, or do you also find this kind of embarrassing?”, Sam asked in the round.

“One little bit?”, Kurt confirmed. “We shouldn’t be here now. That’s not how we travel to weddings in Paris. Or Yorkshire.”

At that moment, a smiling Alexandre exited the house and got into the car where he turned on the engine.

“I really wish you could stay with your family”, Mercedes tried it one last time.

He shook his head. “No, no. It’s only twenty minutes until the train station. I will be back in a flash.”

“But…”

“Even though there were no teddy bears back then when I was a small boy like that one Vanessa will unpack soon.” He patted Mercedes’ arm. “I will be back when she shows it to everyone. Please don’t worry about me, that will be a beautiful day for me.”

Again, she thanked him and relaxed a bit when they drove across the valley and to the train station.

One day, she would find a way to return his friendly favor.

But now, she was just glad they were on their way!


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still don't own anything, lol.

**Hours left until the wedding:** 25 **  
Miles left until Venice:** 220

“Do you like living here?”, she asked Alexandre, looking out of the window and to the snow-covered mountains. “Don’t you feel uncomfortable with all the mountains watching you?”

He smiled. “That’s what a lot of visitors say. But if you live here your entire life, like me, something feels…off without them. Do you understand?”

Mercedes needed to think about the hilly meadows back home in Lima. Nothing could compare to that place even though she couldn’t wait to leave that hicktown once and for all back then.

“Yes”, she said after a while. “It’s your home. The place where your heart is. When Coralee and I were little, we fought so often, but nevertheless, that word is kind of enchanting, right? Home – that word alone sounds so homey.”

For a while, they continued driving in silence until Sam finally said: “You are lucky because you know what ‘home’ is.”

There went Mercedes’ good temper.

She looked at him.

“In my life, I had fifteen different places I could call home. And none of them felt homey.”

“And why is that?”, Kurt asked.

“My dad was a musician. He had to go to places where he could find work. And we followed him.”

“How romantic!” Mercedes sighed. She needed to think about her own dad, an accountant, and about their little house.

Kind of looking wistful, he smiled back. “It was, until he acted out his romantical feelings with a bassist from Oamaru and left mom who was forced to raise me and my younger siblings all by herself.”

“That’s bitter”, Mercedes answered compassionately. “Poor you.”

“Thanks.”

“That’s how it went with us as well.”, she explained.

Sam looked at her and they exchanged sheepish smiles.

Again, it was silent. Until Mercedes spotted the train station plaque. She didn’t know the language, but the drawing with the trains said what she needed to know.

“We arrived!”, she exclaimed relievedly.

Alexandre drove to the parking and parked his van in front of the entrance. “Please wish your sister all the best from Alexandre”, he said to Mercedes after he had stopped the vehicle.

Mercedes kissed the old man on the cheek while Sam and Kurt put all of the luggage and the dress out of the trunk.

“I will” She grinned. “And please wish Vanessa a great birthday from the weird strangers that kidnapped her grandpa.”

“Nonsense!” Alexandre laughed. “I will quickly refuel before I drive back.”

“Could we pay something for the gas?”, Mercedes offered.

“Of course not”, Alexandre answered her back. “It wasn’t far away, and I did it with pleasure.”

Mercedes felt sad when she needed to say goodbye to the old man.

“You don’t meet friendly people like him every day, right?”, she said when she looked after the van that drove away. “Without wanting a reward.”

“I will send him a short letter”, Kurt murmured. “Maybe with some discounter coupons for pieces of our next cruise collection.”

Mercedes and Sam stopped in their tracks and stared at him.

“Why not?” Kurt seemed to be surprised when they shook their heads. “Okay, just flowers. Everyone likes flowers. I will send them to the post office, or rather tell Geneviève to do so.”

“What counts is the good intention”, Sam whispered to Mercedes. She giggled. Now that they got ahead, she didn’t find Sam that bad anymore than a couple of hours ago.

They entered the building of the train station. It wasn’t that spacious – a few shops on one side and a little coffeeshop on the other. And trains, of course. Mercedes looked at the display panel and checked her watch. “The train to Venice will depart in two hours. Hooray!”

She felt how her shoulders relaxed. Finally, they made it. Full of gratefulness, she blew the display panel a kiss. Until now, that trip had been kind of surreal but when she saw the word ‘Venezia’ in bright yellow letters, she would have loved to dance with joy.

On the other side of the building, they found seating places.

“I will go buy the tickets”, Sam offered.

Mercedes wanted to retrieve her wallet, but Sam just shook his head. “It’s okay. We will talk about this later. I don’t even know the price.”

“Thanks.” Mercedes smiled when he crossed the building to go to the cue. “I will call Coralee and tell her everything”, she said to Kurt. “Looks like we will make it to the wedding after all. She is probably going crazy because she doesn’t know about our whereabouts.”

“She wouldn’t believe it if you told her everything”, Kurt commented laconically. “Give my kind regards to her.”

Mercedes found the phone in her purse and called Coralee who picked up immediately.

“Mercedes?”, she asked. “Are you here now?”

“Almost”, Mercedes said good temperedly. “I will be there in no time. How are you?”

“What do you think? I will marry tomorrow, my dress isn’t here and I have no idea where it is now. I’m fine, thank you very much.”

Mercedes smiled at the box to her feet. “Don’t worry, your dress is on the way. We are only one train ride away.”

She heard how Coralee sighed relievedly. “Thank god. I hope you didn’t have more problems? Got arrested another time? Got kicked out of the state because of terroristic schemes?”

Mercedes decided not to tell her about the detours, the ride with the snowmobile and the tons of cow dung.

“It was kind of adventurous, but now, we settled things”, she answered instead. “I cannot wait to see you.”

“Wait until you see the dress!”, Coralee gushed, adding distrustfully: “Have you already looked at it?”

“I would have loved to, but no, I haven’t.”, Mercedes answered truthfully. “Kurt wouldn’t allow it.”

“It’s soooo special”, Coralee gushed. “And you know what? That horrible delay increased my anticipation even more – I can’t believe it’s my dress!”

“I will tell Kurt” She turned to him. “Coralee is really looking forward to that dress.”

“Kisses. Kisses and hugs”, Kurt purred with his Parisian charm.

“Kisses and hugs from him”, Mercedes whispered into her phone.

“Kisses and hugs back!”, Coralee crooned.

“Kisses and hugs back”, Mercedes repeated with an expressionless face expression and Kurt smiled at her.

“I will call you after we arrived”, Mercedes said.

“Listen, Mercy, I’m sorry I was a bitch to you yesterday. That’s so nice from you. And I was…nervous. The wedding is just…”

“It’s okay”, Mercedes muttered and suprisedly noticed that she meant it. “As soon as we are in Venice, I will call you, okay? And – yay- you are going to marry tomorrow!”

“Double yay!”, Coralee squealed. “See you!”

With a smile, Mercedes hung up and closed her eyes. Everything was going to be alright.

“I want a hot bath and a cold cocktail”, Kurt sighed.

“You have been so quiet today”, Mercedes noticed and eyed Kurt who looked kind of down. “That trip is special, isn’t it?”

Kurt nodded sadly. “I’m not good at those things. I can just watch helplessly while Sam is the great hero on the snowmobile.”

“Oh, come on!” Mercedes patted his shoulder amicably. “Sam likes those things, obviously. But it’s okay if you don’t – neither do I. I would rather sit in a bathtub with a cocktail as well.”

“Pardon?”

Mercedes and Kurt turned around. Sam was standing behind them, tickets in hand. “I would love baths and cocktails too.”

Sheepishly, Mercedes looked down. “Oh, Sam, I’m sorry I hurt your feelings.”

“She just tried cheering me up because I was no great help out there.”, Kurt added.

Sam just shrugged and sat down. “Oh, forget it. We all had a bad day.” He gave them their tickets. Mercedes who still felt kind of mean because of what she had said searched for another topic.

“You were just awesome, Sam. Thank you. Without you, we never would have come this far. And…I’m sorry I have been so mean to you because of the dress.”

“Forget it. It’s all snow under the bridge now.” He looked at her, smiling, and pointed at the box. “Don’t you want to see the dress?”

“Oh, I do”, Mercedes sighed. She looked around in the building. It looked clean, and she bit her lower lip and looked at Kurt. Who smiled and nodded.

“I won’t tell her”, he promised.

“It won’t touch the floor, okay?”, Mercedes said conspiratorially

“Deal.” Kurt smiled. “Just go on, you were waiting for that moment for so long.”

Mercedes started opening the box by tearing down the glue strip and carefully opened the lid. She was trembling because of her excitement. “It still has to be in the dress bag and…oh!”

Kurt fully opened the lid and all of them stared into the box. A brown furry face was grinning at them goofily.

“ _Merde!”_

The teddy bear Alexandre had bought for Vanessa was indeed giant. So giant he had packed it in the box that was as big as the box of the wedding dress.

“ _Mon Dieu_ ”, Kurt whispered, fanning himself with his ticket. “Please don’t tell me it’s not what I think it is.”

Mercedes wondered whether fainting now and pretending she was comatose for the following three days would be the easiest solution.

“My dress”, Kurt whined, dropped the lid and slumped down to the chair. “My beautiful dress!”

“He must have given Vanessa Coralee’s dress!”, Mercedes croaked. “That’s a disaster!”

“Hang on” Sam jumped up and pointed at the exit. “Didn’t Alexandre want to refuel his car? Maybe we could catch him in time.”

“Watch over the suitcases!”, Mercedes shouted to Kurt when Sam grabbed her hand and they started running towards the entrance. The security guys threw them a weird glance but let them out of the building with no comment. Maybe screaming couples rushed out of the building all the time.

“There!”, Sam shouted once they were outside. “That’s him, right?”

Mercedes looked at the direction and spotted Alexandre’s van at the gas station. He was about to drive away.

“Alexandre!”, she shouted, but he couldn’t hear her because of the wind. So she let go of Sam’s hand and started sprinting to the car.

She was flailing, but for some reason, Alexandre didn’t see her. She sprinted closer to the car in the middle of the street, right in front of it.

“Mercedes!”, Sam yelled.

Alexandre needed to brake with squealing tires. With widened eyes, Mercedes just stood there, not able to move when the vehicle stopped in front of her.

A few inches closer and the outcome wouldn’t have been so nice. But Alexandre had already turned off the engine and was as pale as a ghost when he got out of the car and stumbled to Mercedes. He arrived at the same moment as Sam.

Mercedes swayed on her feet that were as soft as butter. “I…I’m so sorry”, she stammered. “I didn’t want to scare you, but…”

“Are you hurt?”, Alexandre asked.

“No, I’m fine” Mercedes assured him even though her trembling body was telling them another story.

“I thought you were…” Shock was written all over Alexandre’s face and he stepped back.

Mercedes was more worried about him than about herself. “We got Vanessa’s teddybear.”

“Excuse me?” Alexandre didn’t understand.

“You must have given the teddy bear to us instead of the dress.”

Five minutes later, Mercedes, Sam and Kurt plus their luggage and a giant teddy were in the van and speeding back to the house of Vanessa. Kurt seemed to be upset about the mix up. He had stayed unusually quiet and sent texts with his phone or worriedly stared out of the window, biting his lower lip.

Mercedes felt him. He was probably worrying about how he could tell Décoste after the wedding. It was probably not how things went at the designer service of Décoste usually.

During their ride, Alexandre apologized all the time and Mercedes assured him that nothing had happened. However, her heart was racing. What if the dress was already destroyed? Vanessa’s parents must have noticed that something was wrong with the present of their daughter.

Finally, they stopped in front of Alexandre’s family’s house for the second time this day. Mercedes couldn’t think clear anymore. That was a step back – they were at the same place where they had been one hour ago. No progress.

Disappointedly, she realized that Vanessa’s mother didn’t come storming out of the house with a closed box.

“Please, enter”, Alexandre said to them. “We will get this right, I promise.”

He retrieved the box with the teddy from the trunk. Not saying anything, they all walked to the house.

Vanessa’s mother opened the door. She beamed at them and turned to Mercedes. “There you are again. I’m Penny, Alexandre’s daughter in law.”

“Oh!”, Mercedes exclaimed, surprised by her perfect English. “Hello.”

“I’m from Melbourne”, Penny explained. “Didn’t papa tell you?” She rolled her eyes. “He always forgets because I speak Italian day in day out. Did you come back to see the little dream?”

“Excuse me?”, Mercedes asked, getting a bad premonition.

Penny turned to Alexandre. “She totally adores her present. You are too kind to her.”

Mercedes’ heart raced. Did she get that right?

“No, no!” Alexandre stepped one step back. “There was a mix up!”

Penny was visibly confused, and Mercedes started thinking. As long as she didn’t take the dress out of the box, nothing happened…

“I’m a bride!”, Vanessa squealed enthusiastically in English with a strong accent. Mercedes almost fainted when she spotted her. She was wearing [Coralee’s wedding dress](https://i.pinimg.com/originals/f5/c9/a8/f5c9a85ccb121c8262c41d7ea400ae2e.jpg) that was way too big for her. To make matters worse, she was holding a big piece of chocolate cake in her right hand and danced around – a picture of overjoyed birthday joy.

“ _Mon dieu_ ”, Kurt gasped. “No, no, noo… "

He reeled back and looked as if he would faint any moment. With widened eyes, he stared at the dress, he looked by far more shocked than Mercedes.

“Let’s play cops and robbers”, Mercedes muttered and went to the girl. “Put your hands up!”

Insecure, the girl looked to her mother who had taken the cake out of her hands and retrieved a cloth, cleaning her daughter’s fingers.

“I…I need fresh air”, Kurt stammered. “That’s…that’s too much for me. I need to make phone calls…” He stumbled out of the room, retrieved his phone and muttered something in French.

Mercedes looked back to the dress. Luckily, there were no stains what made her sigh relievedly.

Alexandre brought his true present into the room. “My baby”, he said an kneeled down in front of her. “That’s your present. Your stupid little grandpa made a big mistake and the dress isn’t for you.”

“Oh!”, Penny said.

“That’s the wedding dress of my sister”, Mercedes said quietly. “There was a mix up with the boxes.”

Penny seemed to understand. “I was surprised about that unusual present”, she whispered to Mercedes and went to her daughter.

“Darling”, she said softly. “that’s not your present. Yours is over there.” She pointed at the other box of Alexandre.

“But I love that dress”, Vanessa whined. “I am a princess! And can I have my cake back?”

Despite the chaos, Mercedes inspected the dress closer. Ivory satin, glitter and pearls, a deep cut out. Without a doubt, that dress was pretty. But it was not what Mercedes would have expected.

It was princess-like and opulent, a dress for a Hollywood star, but not for a smart girl from Ohio like Coralee. That dress was a statement. Mercedes shook her head. Oh boy- her sister had changed, that was clear. Or did Sergio change her? Tomorrow, Coralee would flash all of the paparazzi with her dress.

Well, so be it.

It was Coralee’s big day and it was her decision. Mercedes just hoped she would recognize her sister in that dress.

“Vanessa?” Mercedes dared to come closer. “You look so pretty, and you are lucky you could try on that pretty dress. But we have to bring it to the owner, she is going to marry tomorrow. You know, that dress has been designed by a famous designer: Antoine Décoste.”

This piece of information had no effect on the little girl. Or on her mother who looked at her confusedly. So Mercedes changed her tactics.

“Would you please put it off now? I can give you some birthday money for that. Oh, and look over there” – she pointed at the other box. “There’s another present!”

Vanessa’s lower lip started trembling. Seeking help, Mercedes turned to Sam who came over to the girl and kneeled down.

“Sweetie”, he said softly. “You look beautiful in that dress. Like a real princess.”

Vanessa beamed at him.

“But you know what? That dress has been sewed for a real princess. Can you imagine?”

Sam was surely speaking about Princess Coralee. Mercedes noticed his impertinent grin when he shortly turned around and needed to smile.

“A real princess”, Sam said “who is going to marry tomorrow.”

“In a castle?” Vanessa’s eyes widened.

“I think so”, Sam answered, questioningly looking over to Mercedes who shrugged. She didn’t know it herself. “Don’t you think she needs that dress?”

Vanessa was thinking about it.

“And I know that your grandpa has a great present for your over there who needs a lot of love and loves snuggling.”

“Snuggling?” Vanessa looked at the box and went over to it, having difficulties because of the dress. Mercedes’ breath caught.

“Oh, darling, that dress is hindering you”, Sam said softly and scratched his head as if it was a big problem.

Vanessa frowned.

“I will just bring it to you”, Alexandre suggested and put the box in front of his granddaughter. “Happy birthday, baby, that’s your right present from me.”

Vanessa solemnly opened the lid, spotted the bear and cheered with joy. Tears were running down her grandfather’s cheeks. He quickly wiped them away when she hugged him. After that, she turned around, asking: “Can we have more cake now?”

Penny nodded eagerly. “I think so. I’m sure our guests would like to eat some cake as well after we freed you from that giant dress – and you will show them all your pink party dress.”

“That would be great”, Sam explained, getting up.

Mercedes checked her watch. They could still make it if they didn’t stay too long…

But after they had sat down, they waited for a long time until Vanessa and Penny came back. Kurt was back and only a little relieved when Mercedes told him about the outcome. He still seemed to be somewhere else with his thoughts.

“Everything alright?”, she asked him.

“We need to get away from here”, he whispered back.

Mercedes and Sam exchanged glances. “We will see what we can do”, Sam whispered because mother and daughter returned now, Vanessa was holding the teddy in her hands.

“I will call him Nathaniel”, she declared. “Don’t you think he looks like a Nathaniel?”

“Oh yes, he does”, Mercedes agreed.

Vanessa nodded. “We should eat cake now.”

They ate as fast as what was polite and pleaded Alexandre to bring them back to the train station. Mercedes and Penny had put the dress back into the dress bag neatly and after countless apologies and promises to send Vanessa a photo of the princess in her dress, they finally got away.

“It’s not that late”, Sam said when they came closer to the train station of Domodossola. “I will take a nap in the train, I’m tired out.”

Mercedes was too hyped up to think about sleeping. What a day! She felt kind of nauseous because she had eaten cake in spite of having skipped lunch. But she forced herself to do some small talk with Alexandre because Kurt was still absentmindedly staring out of the window, scowling and not saying anything. Mercedes supposed that he was still shocked about the dress after he had to watch how Coralee’s dress almost got ruined with chocolate cake, so she left him alone.

Alexandre apologized again when they said goodbye at the entrance of the train station.

“It’s okay, really”, Mercedes reassured him. “Without you, we never would have come this far. Thanks for everything. I will never forget you, Vanessa and your family. And if I have seen my sister in that dress tomorrow, I will let you know who looked prettier.”

“Goodbye, my love” Alexandre kissed both of her cheeks. “I wish you and your sister all the best.”

Kurt and Sam had put all of their things onto a baggage cart and had went ahead to the hall. Where they stared at the display panel with blank faces.

“It departed”, Sam said when Mercedes walked over to them. “The train departed.”

“Not funny, Sam.”

Mercedes looked to Kurt who still looked pale and was staying silent.

“I’m serious.”

“You are kidding me!”, Mercedes shouted. “We checked the time. We still have half an hour.”

Sam shook his head. “We were idiots. Just look” He pointed at the display panel. “We only looked at the arrivals, not at the departs. The train _from_ Venice arrives in thirty minutes, the train _to_ Venice left ten minutes ago. And the next one will drive tomorrow.”

“That’s my fault”, Mercedes groaned. “I should have checked the time properly. I’m so sorry, guys.”

“We all should have checked it”, Sam answered her back quietly. “But I have no idea what to do now.”

Kurt still stayed silent. He was busy typing in and sending texts. And Mercedes just could drop her bag and fight back her tears.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another backlash...again


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I didn't update for a long time, guys. But I'm sure you will like that chapter. Because that's my longest chapter so far.
> 
> Enjoy ;)

**Hours left until the wedding:** 24 **  
Miles left until Venice:** 220

“Someone doesn’t want me to make it to that wedding.”

Kurt had gone to the small shop of the train station. Mercedes and Sam stood next to the entrance, not knowing what to do, so she thought about alternate plans (throwing themselves in front of the next train among others).

But Sam didn’t seem to listen, he was busy sending texts with his phone – probably to Jasmine. Mercedes wondered what he texted her.

_I’m stuck in the middle of nowhere with a snotty dressmaker and a crazy American woman.  
I will probably never see you again…_

“Sam?”

He didn’t look up. “Hm?”

“That’s probably the right timing for apologizing to you.”

“Forget it”, he said but still wasn’t looking at her.

“If you hadn’t been so…well, nice, you could have sat in the train to Venice. Kurt and I could have driven back alone to get the dress.”

He sighed and finally looked at her. “Yes, maybe. I admit, it’s irksome. But what kind of person would I be if I let you alone in this situation?”

“Kurt was there”, Mercedes sighed and quickly regretted having said it because Sam looked back to his phone again. “What I wanted to say, was…well…you are…” She went silent. What was he? He was adorable. Kind. And without a doubt, annoyed by this situation, but tried not to show it. He was just _awesome_.

“Whatever”, Sam commented after a while and spared Mercedes to end her sentence.

“So…” Mercedes desperately searched for something else to say. “We already established that there are no rental cars at this place, at least none, that are open on a Sunday, right?”

“Yup.”

“And there is no bus either.”

“No bus that will bring us to Venice before Christmas.”

“Yes.”

Mercedes looked around. It was dead silent in that town, only a few cars passed them, as well as a bus and a man with a dog.

“This is going to be the most expensive taxi ride in the history”, she concluded.

“But I can’t see any taxis”, Sam said with a frown.

“Great.”

Kurt went out of the shop, his face was hidden behind a giant map of Italy which he must have bought now. Not saying anything, he joined the duo and continued staring at the map.

“It’s too far away to walk to Venice.”, Sam commented dryly.

Kurt just nodded, still staying silent.

“At least, we would advance”, Mercedes thought out loud.

Since they had no better idea, they started walking towards the center of the city. An icy wind made Mercedes freeze, and she looked over to Sam’s warm knit sweater that made her smile.

Well. _Fashion – Zero points. Ugly sweater – One point._

They took turns in carrying the giant dress bag, but Mercedes was aware that they couldn’t continue like that for a long time. She was about to suggest taking a break when she spotted something on the estate next to them.

“Guys!”, she exclaimed. “Look!”

It was a tiny car with rusty patches on the fenders and a big plaque on its window, saying: “ _Vendita. 150 Euro.”_

“That’s probably broken, and its owner parked it here to keep the birds away from the grain field.”, Sam theorized.

“But there is no grain field. Just look at it closer.” Mercedes looked hopeful while Sam scratched his head.

“For rent?”

Mercedes noticed that he quickened his pace. “No way, Mercedes. They are kidding! I would need to amputate my legs to get into that tiny thing.”

“Do you have a better idea?”, she asked him, hands on her hips.

Kurt frowned. “I need to admit, it’s kind of…chic, in a quite old-fashioned way.” He scratched his chin. “But still no. There is no way anyone sees me in that car. That’s out of question.”

Mercedes and Sam exchanged glances. Without saying anything, Mercedes put down her bags and went over to the lodge nearby, knocking on its door.

They were lucky. The young ginger man who opened the door was indeed the owner of the car. Even though he was surprised at first, he was a good businessman. He retrieved the keys and the car documents in no time and explained to Mercedes how the car worked. Unfortunately, Mercedes’ Italian was kind of rusty, she only understood a couple of words.

“He said that there is some work to do on the car”, she shouted to the other guys. “Does anyone know something about car engines?”

“A little”, Sam said, rubbing his neck. “But only with those of motorbikes.”

“Yes, indeed”, Kurt commented “My dad was a mechanic. Shall I have a look at it?”

“Oh, was he?”, Mercedes asked surprisedly, instantly feeling ashamed for having asked. Why the hell shouldn’t his dad be a mechanic? “That’s great!”

The went to the estate while the owner explained something about a “belt”, Sam opened the engine hood and Kurt had a look at it.

“Well, first, that car needs a new V-belt”, he announced without touching the rusty vehicle. “Could we get one?”

“Wait a minute”, the car owner said and walked over to the barn next to his house. Mercedes could hear how he opened another engine bonnet.

“He takes the V belt from another car”, she whispered. “Whether that will work?”

Kurt shrugged. “Let’s try.”

Skeptical, Sam eyed the car and shook his head disdainfully.

“It’s no Lamborghini”, Mercedes said “But we couldn’t afford one anyway.”

“Seems to be okay, more or less”, he commented “But I still think that thing is a mini death trap.”

“Says the guy with the snowmobile”, Mercedes teased him. Sam grinned, and she noticed how her cheeks heated up weirdly.

The owner returned, triumphantly waving with his V belt. “Money, please.”

So Mercedes retrieved her wallet and started counting the bills.

“We should share the costs, right?”, Sam said insecurely.

“I got it” Mercedes needed to add some coins as well before she could give him the sum, and the man gave the V-belt and the car keys to-Sam.

Intolerable!

“Thanks”, Sam said when the man turned around and wished them a nice day “But as you have noticed, the lady over here paid it, I didn’t.”

“So much for equality” Mercedes scowled.

Sam wanted to give the V belt to Kurt. “Would you be so nice?”

“No, I’m afraid”, Kurt muttered. “Don’t you know that engine oil stays on the skin for days? Tomorrow, I need to make the last adjustments on Miss Coralee’s dress – if we ever make it to Venice – so you need to do it.”

“Oh, good argument”, Mercedes agreed. “Engine oil on a dress would be disastrous.”

“You need to open the cowling”, Kurt explained, pointing at the spot on the engine. “You can just screw it off.”

“Okay”, Sam muttered and bent down. “Dammit, that’s tough. I’m sorry, but motorbikes are entirely different from that scrapheap.”

“And so am I”, Kurt sighed. He shoved Sam to the side and rolled up his sleeves. “Forget the oil. What kind of designer would I be if I didn’t do everything for the bride? Otherwise, I could as well drive back to Paris.”

…

He leaned over the engine bonnet. Mercedes was sure having heard him mutter “Verona”, but maybe, he was just not used to everything beyond the Parisian Boulevard or the Province of Yorkshire and thought that the rest of Europe was an eyesore…

“Do you need help?”, she asked Kurt “I’m good at following instructions.”

“No”, Kurt answered without turning away from the engine. “I’m fine. Let’s just hope it works.”

At that moment, Mercedes’ phone rang, showing her her mother’s name on the display.

“Mom!”, she said “You have no idea what is going on here.”

“Hello, darling, is everything okay?”

“You sound terrible”, Mercedes noticed “Did you just get up?”

Her mother stayed silent for a while. “I’m fine, thanks”, she said eventually. “Everything was just so adventurous.”

“You too? Well, we have been on the way with a plane, a snowmobile and a post van. And now, we are about to get into the tiniest old car you have ever seen-if it still can drive. We are in Domodossola, unbelievable, right?”

“Domodossola?”, her mom repeated. “I’m in Milano, so you are not that far away from me…”

Her mom was _where_? She was supposed to arrive in Venice days ago. “Milano? What the hell are you doing here?”

“Well…I had to do a couple of things.”

Mercedes rolled her eyes. “One day before the wedding? What has been so important for you to drive to Milano?”

“I…erm, nothing, nothing”, she answered evasively. “But now, everything is done, and I’m tired.”

Mercedes knew how her mom was feeling. That giant celeb wedding was the most stressful event she ever had seen. “Don’t tell me Coralee made you sad?”

“No…” Phyllis went silent before she said: “Is there a chance that you can pick me up?”

“You…you are kidding, right?”, Mercedes stuttered perplexedly. “I mean, you should see that car, there is barely space for the three of us and the dress!”

“I see.” Again, silence. “I will think of something else.”

With a deep sigh, Mercedes said softly: “Looks like you also have a bad day, right, Mom? A little company would do you good.”

“Oh, yes” She could hear Phyllis smile. With another sigh, Mercedes looked at the tiny car. “You will have to hug your knees in there.”

“I don’t care”, her mother answered, sounding happier now. “But why? Who else is with you?”

“Antoine’s personal assistant, Kurt”, she said.

“Good afternoon!”, he shouted from the car, and made Mercedes smile.

“And Sam…”

“Who’s Sam?”

They didn’t have time for that now. “And the dress.”

“And Anthony.”

They _really_ didn’t have time for that. Mercedes quickly changed the topic. “I cannot wait to tell you about our trip- you won’t believe it, I promise. Where shall we pick you up?”

“There is that spacious parking. Can you take notes? I will give you the address. Does your car have a navigation system?”

“Are you serious? We are happy it has a steering wheel…oh!”

The engine revving up and shouts of joy of Kurt and Sam made her turn around, and the tiny car came to live. “They did it, hooray! So, the address?” Mercedes typed it into her phone, hung up and ran to the car.

“We don’t even have to refuel”, Sam exclaimed, beaming triumphantly. “Let’s try whether it is able to drive.”

They somehow could put their luggage into the trunk, put the dress out of the box and put it onto the backseat, neatly folded. It was still in the dressbag of Antoine’s atelier, full of drops of cow dung, to Mercedes, Antoine’s atelier felt like it was in another universe.

She took a seat next to the dress, the guys got in in the front. Sam started the car, and with another shout of joy, they drove off.

“Erm…guys?”, Mercedes said carefully when the car drove down a bumpy road. “I hope you wouldn’t mind if we made a small detour?”

“A detour?”, Sam answered with a frown. “Have you gone crazy?”

“No, I’m serious. Sorry, but something happened. It’s even on the way and will only take us fifteen minutes…or so I hope. Okay?”

Sam threw her a short glance before he concentrated on the road again. “I hope you are right. Where to?”

“Milano.”

…

They continued their ride in silence. Mercedes had curled up next to the dress and looked at the guys she didn’t even know tow days ago. Except for the time where they had repaired the car, Kurt hadn’t said a single word since they had left Vanessa’s house.

Somehow, he seemed to act different now. He was somewhere else with his thoughts, checked his phone every single minute and stealthily sent texts. But then, Mercedes remembered that he initially didn’t plan to come with them. He had said that he already had an appointment, but his boss had forced him. Even though Mercedes would do everything for the great Antoine Décoste, she needed to admit that this trip had turned into an adventure.

She imagined how worried Kurt was about his other clients, glamorous, sophisticated women with endless budgets. It must be special for him to stay away that long for just a dress. Unbelievable that her sister who made herself mud baths as a teenager was worth it to get treated like a highness by one of the greatest fashion boutiques of the world. Mercedes was happy for her even if she was a little irritated. Maybe because she knew exactly that the reason for that behavior towards Coralee was her fiancé, the oh-so great Sergio Bellucci. She tried not to think about that not all women that wore a Décoste dress got it delivered in a rusty small car.

“Everything all right, Kurt?”, she dared to ask.

“Yes”, he answered shortly without turning around.

So Mercedes gave up cheering him up. Instead, she turned to Sam who was concentrating on the road in front of him. He seemed to be lost in thoughts as well, and in his case, she could understand. He was on the way to an important film premiere in Venice. It was not exactly common for Hollywood movie directors to drive to the red carpet in a rusty old car.

He wore stylish sunglasses, a Vintage Aviator, so that the sun didn’t blind him. Mercedes loved that brand and considered telling him so.

Screw it.

“I love your Aviator”, she dared to say.

“My what?” Sam just turned right and drove down a narrow street.

“Your Aviator. Your glasses. I never would have thought you were that trendy.”

“Oh, that one?” Sam looked at her in the rearview. “That’s how they are called? They just fulfill their function; it was a present.”

Mercedes couldn’t bite back the comment that followed. “From Jasmine?”

He cocked his eyebrows. “No.”

So Mercedes gave up trying to have a conversation with both of the guys. Obviously, none of them were in the mood.

“Are you sure this is the right direction?”, Sam asked after a while. Mercedes checked her notes. “Yup, that’s what she told me.”

They drove to the estate of a building complex. Considering its space, the ambulance and the men in white coats, it must be a hospital. That suspicion was confirmed by a giant plaque saying “ _Ospedale_ ” over the entrance, the Italian word for hospital. Confused, Mercedes looked out of the window until she spotted a familiar person sitting on a bench with an elegant suitcase next to her, reading a book.

“There!”, she said “That’s my mom!”

Sam pulled over and got out to help Mercedes out of the car who immediately ran to her mother. Her mom’s eyes widened when she saw the tiny car and its passengers.

“Mom!”, Mercedes exclaimed and hugged Phyllis tightly. “Isn’t that crazy?”

“Hello, darling”, her mother said and hugged her back. “I’m so happy to see you.”

Surprised, she pulled away and looked at her mother closer. “You look different”, she said slowly. “Did you lose weight?”

“Well…”

“It suits you so well! I mean, you didn’t have to lose weight, but just look at those awesome cheekbones! Did you do a prenuptial detox?”

“Yes, something like that”, her mother answered with a smile.

Kurt got out as well, and Mercedes introduced them to each other. “That’s Kurt Hummel, the assistant of the great Antoine Décoste. Kurt, that’s my mom, Phyllis Jones.”

Kurt kissed her on the back of her hand politely. “Enchanté”, he said, looking like Phyllis was the most beautiful being on this planet. “Now, I know where Mercedes and Coralee got their beauty from, Ma’am.”

Phyllis nodded friendly, apparently, she was already used to the politeness of Europeans.

“And that’s Sam…Evans, right?” Mercedes felt ashamed for not knowing Sam’s family name.

“Yes” Sam smiled and shook her mom’s hand. “Nice to meet you, Mrs. Jones.”

“Phyllis, please”, her mom answered with a smile as well and pointed at the car. “Are you a friend of Kurt?”

“In the meantime, yes.” Sam needed to grin. “We sat in the same plane, and now, they don’t seem to get rid of me-I need to go to Venice as well.”

“Oh, really?” Mercedes ignored the curious glance her mother threw her.

“To a film festival. I’m a director.”

“How thrilling. Maybe we could go there as well? Walk on a red carpet and meet stars?”

“You are more than welcome”, Sam said with a wink“But I’m afraid it would collide with an important appointment of yours.”

“That’s a shame”, her mother said.

“We will watch it one day on DVD”, Mercedes promised. “And in exchange for that, we could send Sam a DVD of Coralee’s wedding – I’m sure he will be thrilled.” She grinned when she saw how Sam forced himself to keep smiling politely.

Phyllis looked at the car again. “Looks like we will all get to know each other very well until we arrive at Venice. Shall we?”

It took them a lot of time to get everyone into that tiny vehicle, but finally, they did it. Mercedes and her mom sat on the backseat, the dress on their knees and Phyllis’s suitcase to their feet. This time, Kurt was driving.

While they drove off, Mercedes looked back with a frown. “Why did we have to pick you up at a hospital?”, she asked.

“No reason to be worried”, her mom waved it off. “It was just a good meeting point. It’s a nightmare to drive around in Milano, and the hospital was marked very well.”

“Good thinking, mom” Mercedes smiled.

“And now, tell me, why the hell you are here-in that thing.”

She needed more than twenty minutes to recount what had happened in the past two days. When she came to an end, her mother didn’t seem stunned, but more as if she would fall asleep any moment.

“Isn’t that funny?”, Mercedes concluded. Honestly, she would have excepted a little more enthusiasm about their crazy story. “Well, now, it is.”

A “Hmm” was the only reaction of her mother _. If Coralee told you, you would be more interested_ , Mercedes couldn’t help but think.

“Sorry, baby”, her mom said quietly. “You seem to have experienced a lot by now.”

“And that’s only half of the story.”

Mercedes was aware that Sam was also listening. Once, he even turned around shortly.

“But I will tell you the rest another time.”

She was kind of irritated that her mother didn’t protest. “You didn’t say anything about Anthony”, she whispered instead.

Mercedes’ stomach sank.

“Where is he?”

“Anthony?”, she repeated, searching for an excuse desperately. Her mom was tired, they were packed like sardines in a can in that car, the last thing she wanted was to tell her mom how she got dumped. Now that she thought about it, she realized that she didn’t think about her ex even once. So much for repression.

She decided on half the truth, at least better than a complete lie. “He has an important work order in L.A. and can’t make it to the wedding.”

Mercedes braced herself for the worst.

“I understand”, she muttered, closed her eyes and fell asleep.

“Mom?”

At that moment, Mercedes’ phone rang, so she retrieved it and looked at the display.

“Oh oh, here we go again…”

She took a deep breath and accepted the call. “Hi, Corr.”

“The train arrived hours ago.” Coralee’s voice sounded shrill and angry. “But you didn’t call me. What the hell?”

“Oh, Coralee, that’s another long story. I’m afraid we…”

“I don’t have time for your long stories!”, her sister screeched. “I will marry tomorrow – or not, only thanks to you! Where are you?”

“Well, we missed the train…”

“I know. How can a person be so dumb? Oh, don’t say anything, you got attacked by a herd of mad buffalos?”

“Strictly speaking…” Mercedes needed to think about the cows in the barn. “Well, almost. We are on the way to Venice in a car and will arrive in…” She turned to Sam, questioning.

“…three and a half hours”, he said.

“Three and a half hours”, she repeated. “Okay? Mom is sitting next to me, by the way.”

“What?”

As short as possible, Mercedes told her about what had happened, not mentioning the part with Vanessa and the chocolate cake.

“You were just supposed to bring the dress to Venice by plane. And what did you do? Turn it into a drama! That’s so you!”

“That’s so me?”, Mercedes hissed at her. She would have loved to yell at her sister, but the car was so tiny and probably wouldn’t take it and let those darned doors burst. “I don’t think so. You have no idea what I had to go through for that dress. Calm down. Go and…drink some champagne or whatever brides do before their weddings.”

“The majority of them spends the day before the wedding looking at the dress”, Coralee snapped. “Is Kurt there?”

“Yes, I succeeded in not losing him. Until now.”

“I want to talk to him.”

It was no plead, it was an order. But Kurt didn’t seem so thrilled about it. “I need to drive and can’t talk to her now”, he muttered. Mercedes looked at him closer. He was sweating slightly, his lips were pressed into a thin line.

“Not now, bis sis. But I’m sure, he sends you lots of kisses.”

Kurt threw her a tormented glance over the rearview.

“And how about mom?”

“She is sleeping.”

“Mercedes, are you sure you don’t just sit at your home in New York and lie me right to my face?”

“To be honest, I wish I would. But no.” Mercedes looked at the highway that was not that crowded thankfully. She searched for plaques that would indicate they were near Venice. “We are somewhere between Milano and Venice, but it won’t take long. We did everything in our power to arrive in Venice in time, and sometime, maybe in hundred fifty years, I will tell you everything.”

Again, silence. But then, Mercedes could hear someone sniffling on the other end of the line.

“Are you…are you crying?”

“I cannot cry”, Coralee sobbed “I can’t have red eyes tomorrow. What would the world press say about that?”

“Oh, sweetie”, Mercedes said. Suddenly, her big sister sounded so lonely and terrified and she felt sorry for her. Even though it wasn’t her fault, she felt bad. “Calm down”, she said softly. “I’m aware that situation isn’t ideal, but we will be there in no time. And Kurt will be up all night to make sure that the dress fits perfectly. It’s on our laps, safe and sound…” She wanted to add “…and unexpectedly sparkling”, but let it be.

Kurt was wiping the sweat away from his forehead.

Coralee cleared her nose loudly. “Right. Well…”

“You stopped crying?”

“Yes. Oh, I’m late for my pedicure.”

“Oh, you need to hurry. Go, little princess, and prettify your extremities.” She heard how Coralee laughed quietly.

“Until later, okay?”, Mercedes said “And don’t drink all of the champagne. Whether you believe it or not, we deserved it.”

“Okay. Until later. And hurry - but be careful.”

“I always am.”

Mercedes hung up and exhaled loudly. Somehow, Sam could put off his sweater despite the space problem.

“Finally!”, she jokingly applauded and blushed slightly when he was looking at her weirdly. “You must have sweated inside that thing.”, she added sheepishly and tried everything not to look at his muscular shoulders underneath his white T Shirt.

“Yes”, he just answered, folded the sweater and used it as a pillow to lean his head against the glass pane. Then, he closed his eyes and fell asleep soon.

 _Running late, running late, running late_ , was the only thing Mercedes could think about. Hopefully, the pedicure would distract her sister for a while even though it was highly improbable. Coralee would count the seconds and if they weren’t be in Venice in exactly three and a half hours…well, she didn’t want to know how Coralee would react.

“My little girl”, her mom murmured in her sleep.

Mercedes smiled at her. It has been a long time since her mother had called her like that. She noticed how Kurt hit the gas and nervously muttered something in French.

“Tomorrow, she will marry…”, her mother mumbled dreamily. “How can it be?”

For some reason, Mercedes got mad.

“Am I not your little girl?”, she asked, surprised about how childish she sounded.

“Of course, you are” Phyllis squeezed her daughter’s hand. “But children grow up so fast. You know, when you were born, people told me that time would fly, and I couldn’t believe it. Raising kids is not that easy, the days seemed to be endless.”

“I’m sorry, mom” Mercedes bit her lower lip.

“Oh no, it was great, please don’t misunderstand it.”

“I don’t know whether I can believe you.”

“But that’s the truth! Every moment was special, okay, apart from the sleepless nights.” She winked at her daughter. “But just wait until you have kids yourself.”

Mercedes needed to think about Anthony. It was no _until_ , it was an _if._

“That connection…it cannot be described”, Phyllis went on “It doesn’t matter where you are now, nothing compares to that feeling.”

There were tears in Phyllis’ eyes, and there was something else Mercedes wanted to tell her mother. She took a deep breath.

“You were always closer to Coralee than to me.”

Silence. Her mother frowned and looked to her. “That’s not true.”

“And why do I feel like that? You always treated us differently, I can’t count how many times I felt excluded. You and Corr, you talked for hours, and I was the one who always got something to do so that I don’t do anything stupid. You always called me out whenever I broke something.”

Her mother sighed. “Do you mean the musical box?”

“Among others. It was like a disaster! I honestly thought Coralee would kill me. I was _seven_ years old, mom! And you know what? She really got it started again when I suggested to bring the dress to Venice. As if it was the proof I couldn’t take care of anything!”

“Weird that the two of you don’t just forget that silly story.”

“Back then, it wasn’t silly”, she groaned. “I felt so miserable.”

“You need to leave it behind, Mercy”, her mother said softly. “That was just an accident.”

“Mom?”

“Yes?”

“I broke it purposely.” Mercedes felt how her eyes burned with tears.

“Really?” Her mother was good at hiding her feelings because she showed almost no emotions.

“That musical box was so beautiful”, Mercedes went on “it sparkled and glittered. And I just had a coffee cup where I could put my jewelry.” It took her years to talk about it.

“I didn’t know you made it deliberately”, her mother commented quietly. “But that’s water under the bridge.” She caressed Mercedes’ knee. “It’s normal to be jealous of the things the older siblings own. That’s the oldest form of jealousy in mankind.”

“But that’s not the reason why I broke it” Mercedes was close to crying. That musical box was so beautiful with all the diamonds on it. “I did it because dad gave it to her and not to me.”

Her mother nodded slowly. “But you were only seven, that’s a little young for such a present. That’s why he must have given it to her.”

“It was the most wholesome thing I had seen.”

Back then, she had been stunned about that it broke into thousands of pieces when she had thrown it down. Aghast about what she had done, she ran out of the bathroom, claiming that it had been an accident when Coralee found it.

“So you didn’t just drop it by accident?”, her mother asked tentatively.

“I slammed it to the floor with all I had, mom.”

“I see.”

“It’s just, I was so mad. And stunned and I got scared…”

“It’s long ago”, Phyllis said softly and caressed Mercedes’ leg. “You were so little.”

“I don’t think I will ever forget it. And so won’t Coralee.” Mercedes shook her head sadly. “I was jealous. I thought you would all hate me.”

“Oh, sweetie, that’s so far from the truth.” Phyllis went silent, thinking about what she would say next. “I remember that time. You dad just left us-with that woman. I had to take care of Coralee because of that. She had so many questions and I thought it would help me as well if I sit down with her and answer those questions.”

“You talked for hours.”

Her mom nodded. “Yes.” She looked at Mercedes. “And you, Mercy, bottled up everything. I thought you were too young to suffer the consequences of our breakup.”

“Seriously?”

Again, Phyllis nodded. “That’s what I thought. You were seven, Mercy. You just continued with putting on makeup and high heels, playing model in front of the mirror.”

“That way, I didn’t need to think about how clumsy I am.”

“It breaks my heart to hear that. I obviously didn’t think about it that way back then, and I am sorry.”

They stayed silent for a while and listened to the engine of the car and Sam’s quiet snores. Kurt didn’t say a single word all the time. Mercedes didn’t cry. She felt relieved that she had come clear with her mom. And that was it. Her mom was only human who had a hard time herself and seen how her daughter pretended she was a model, concluding she was fine.

“Mom?”

“Yes?”

“What do you think about tomorrow?”

“What do you mean?”

“Everything. Well, especially about Sergio.”

Phyllis looked up. “Why are you asking?”

Mercedes exhaled audibly. “Don’t you think it all happened so…fast? They are a couple for only five months.”

Her mother pensively furrowed her eyebrows. “And he is so…different from what we are used to.”

“Is he?”

Impatiently, Mercedes looked at her mother. “He is a freaking _billionaire!_ And he is older than her.”

Phyllis smiled faintly. “As far as I know, none of that is a crime.”

“Don’t you think she is…I don’t know…blinded by all this? Who would have thought that Coralee, a girl from Lima…”

“Mercy”, her mother cut her off softly. “Coralee is thirty years old. She is grown up even though it’s hard for me to accept it. She knows what she wants, and she loves that man.”

Her mother still hadn’t answered her question. “So-what do you think about it?”, Mercedes asked again.

Phyllis sighed. “I met Sergio a couple of times. He is so charming.”

Mercedes snorted disdainfully. “He is European! They are all charming.”

“As I have said, he is charming, intelligent and has a good sense of humor.”

“That’s not enough, as you know.”

Now, her mother needed to laugh. “But it’s something. And I have seen them together. He adores her.” She winked at Mercedes. “Be fair, darling. I met him, and he seemed to be nice. He loves her. What’s your problem?”

 _She thinks I’m jealous of her fiancé just like I was jealous of her musical box_.

“Don’t you think she is a nice change from the supermodels and celebs Sergio met? I googled him, he always goes to those parties of really rich stars, there are thousands of beautiful rich women at those events.”

“And Coralee? Isn’t she pretty?”

“Not always.” Mercedes crossed her arms, pouting.

“Listen, darling, Coralee and Sergio do love each other. And we will celebrate their wedding tomorrow.”

“He is a rich businessman.”

Her mother looked at her questioningly. “Google”, Mercedes admitted.

“Give him a chance.”

“Do I have to?”

“No, of course not. But I disagree with you.”

“Coralee always liked…pretty things.”

Now, Phyllis looked at her daughter sternly. “Mercy. You should listen to yourself! Coralee doesn’t marry him because of the money, but because they want to spend the rest of their lives together.”

“Hm…” Mercedes kept on pouting.

“You know what? I’m giving up. You love Coralee, I love Coralee, tomorrow is her wedding. I won’t allow you ruin it because you are mad.”

“I’m not mad!”, she hissed.

“What is it, then?”, her mother asked her challengingly. “Is it about Anthony?”

Mercedes didn’t see that one coming. “Mom, I already told you that…” All of a sudden, there was a lump in her throat.

“Come on, baby. Why isn’t he here now?”, Phyllis asked softly.

Mercedes stared out of the window. Confession time. “He broke up with me.”, she said. “In Paris. Two days ago.”

She felt how Phyllis pulled her in a hug, her mother’s body was so fragile and petite, as if she was another woman. But that hug was consoling anyway. And then, she started crying. As quiet as possible to not wake up Sam.

“I can’t…”, she sobbed “I don’t know…”

“Take yourself time”, her mom whispered into her ear. “Everything will be okay. I’m here.”

After a while, there were no tears left to cry. “He really went to L.A. He got a job there on short notice and thinks he will get famous.”

“That’s what he always wanted, right?”

“I think so.”

“And, how are you?”

“How I am?” Mercedes thought about it. How was she? “No idea. I didn’t have time to digest it yet. As soon as I am in New York again, I will change a couple of things, search for a smaller apartment, throw away his things, you know, the usual stuff. But I didn’t realize what it would mean for me until now.”

Phyllis caressed her back. “Are you under pressure?”

“I rather feeling as if I would levitate.” Mercedes forced herself to smile. “I just hope I won’t leave the wedding, crying and sobbing.”

“Be nice to yourself.”

“No time for that”, Mercedes sighed. “But I will…as soon as possible.”

“That Anthony is an idiot”, Kurt suddenly said, much to the surprise of the two women. He threw Mercedes a compassionate glance in the rearview and handed her an expensive looking handkerchief to blow her nose.

“What?”

Kurt must have heard every single word, and she didn’t know whether she should find it good that a guy she barely knew had heard all of her intimate stories of her childhood and of her relationship. But on the other hand, she knew she could trust him.

“That’s just a saying.”, Kurt shrugged.

“Thanks”, Mercedes answered faintly. “I start to ask myself whether I wasn’t enough for him.”

“No way, don’t think that!”, her mother said, shaking her head fervently, and hugged her again.

“I don’t understand”, Kurt said “why you shed a tear over a guy who leaves you just because he wants fame. He’s just chasing an illusion.”

“You think so?”, she sniffled.

“I know it.”

“But Kurt”, Mercedes said “Don’t you spend your life with chasing an illusion as well? That imagination of glamour and success?” With those words, she surprised herself. She wasn’t even sure whether she believed them.

Kurt fervently shook his head. “ _Beauty_. That’s what I concentrate on. Beauty and arts and perfection. I’m pursuing perfect quality, not fame and riches.”

Mercedes smiled. He didn’t just describe himself but also what she thought. Strictly speaking, not yet. But some day, maybe, if she made herself a name, she would be able to say something like that.

“Anthony, on the other hand…” Kurt still didn’t drop that topic “Didn’t he show you what he wants?”

Mercedes thought about it. “I…think…so…”

“Because there is someone else who did in the past two days.” Kurt nodded to Sam who was still asleep. “He did.”

“Kurt!” Mercedes was outraged.

“I’m serious! The two of you are such a cute couple.”

She blushed. “Don’t be stupid. He sure is a nice guy…”

“And really handsome?”

“Oh, he is”, her mother commented.

“Shhttt!” Mercedes looked down bashfully. “Just think about it, Kurt. What did you just say about Anthony and fame and riches? _Hello?_ Isn’t Sam on the way to a glamorous film festival to present his movie? He pursues fame and riches as well!”

She couldn’t help but feel down. All men she dated until now only wanted to be famous, nothing more. It was so depressing that a simple lifestyle wasn’t good enough for people anymore. At least, she had silenced Kurt for now. “Apart from that”, she added bitterly “there is something else.”

“Really?” Kurt threw her a short glance.

“Yes, and it’s called Jasmine.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See you next chapter ;) Let's hope I will have time to update with all my exams coming up...


	13. Chapter 13

**Hours left until the wedding:** 22 **  
Miles left until Venice:** 113

“I’m sorry”, her mother said quietly, holding her hand in front of her mouth all of a sudden “But I feel nauseous.”

“Mom? Oh no! Pull over, Kurt! Please hold on, mom, but don’t puke into the dress.” Instinctively, Mercedes pulled the dressbag closer to herself, not trying to think about the wrinkles she created in the process. They would be able to fix the wrinkle problem – but puke on the dress? No way.

Luckily, there was a parking not far away from the interstate where Kurt could park the car.

Sam startled and woke up when Kurt braked, but seemed to understand what was going on and helped Mercedes’ mom out of the tiny vehicle. “Are you alright again? Take deep breaths, good, everything okay.”

Phyllis was trembling, so Sam ran back to the car, took his sweater, and laid it around the older woman’s shoulders.

“It’s okay, you will feel better in no time.”

Mercedes and Kurt stood next to the car, watching them. “He really is a great guy”, Kurt murmured, nodding to Sam.

“Yes”, she agreed absentmindedly, checking the dressbag for puke stains. Luckily, she found none.

“Do you have some medication you can take and that I can bring you?”, Sam asked.

“No. Just let me rest for an instant, that will be enough.”

“She never gets carsick”, Mercedes shouted to him “That’s why she doesn’t have any meds for carsickness.”

Sam looked over to her, pensive. “Okay.”, he answered.

“Let’s go, my friends.” Phyllis got up again to walk back to the car. “I don’t want to delay everything.” Sam held her arm to support her.

“Are you feeling better now, mom?”, Mercedes asked worriedly.

“Oh, yes. How embarrassing, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be silly, mom”, she answered her mother back, asking herself whether all the stress could be responsible for her nausea.

“Please, sit in the front”, Sam told Phyllis who shook her head.

“No, it’s okay. And you with your long legs…”

“I insist”, Sam said sternly. “Please.” He practically needed to fold himself up to be able to sit at the backseat.

“Thanks.”

Mercedes got in on the other side and after they had put the dress onto their laps, she felt Sam’s upper thigh next to hers. For some reason, she felt weird, so she scooted away from him as politely as possible.

“I will do everything to avoid the road holes”, Kurt promised to her mom when they drove off.

The latter one closed her eyes and seemed to fall asleep soon behind her sunglasses. For a while, nobody said anything. Mercedes looked at Sam from the corners of her eyes. Without a doubt, he looked handsome. And he was nice and caring. He could have made anything of his life…

“Why movies?”, she asked him.

Sam shrugged. “Why not?”

“Isn’t it a little…conceited?”

He gasped, surprised. “Ouch. Did you work on that payback since I insulted the fashion industry?”

“No, of course not!” She grimaced. “Sorry if it sounded so mean.”

“Oh, forget it. That question is legitimate. Let me think a bit. Well, media always were thrilling to me. Stories are better to tell three dimensionally.”

“Compared to what? To written stories?”

He frowned. “I think so. But I meant compared to all other media. I want to tell people the truth, and that works best with movies. Do you understand?”

Mercedes nodded.

“I love everything about making movies. Always. I love cine films, TV, developing ideas and looking into things. I don’t think that something is wrong with that.”

“I also love movies.” Mercedes sighed.

“After I realized exactly that, I did everything to get extensive education: Writing, researching, collecting information, filming, editing…”

“Great, sounds like a one-man business.” Mercedes liked how passionate he sounded about it – he was literally beaming.

“Yes, you said it right.”

“Really?” She didn’t even notice she had said something smart.

“Yes, that’s what this is about: I want to control how people interpret the movie; I want to be sure that the shown picture is exactly what I want to show the world.”

She looked at him impishly. “I’m afraid you sound a little like a control freak, Sam.”

When she glanced at the rearview, she noticed that Kurt was smiling at her.

“Yes maybe, but that’s probably the only way to tell the truth like I want it.”

“And what if you are wrong?”

For the first time, she noticed how he hesitated. The passionate sparkling in his eyes was replaced by something like... self-doubt. “That’s a great question I don’t hear that often.”

Mercedes was surprised. “Really? You are not _that_ scary!”

Even though she was joking, he was taking the question serious. “I hope so! But I need some knowledge for what I do. People always assume that what we create and show to the world is based on long researches of geniuses. But actually, just a guy, a camera, and a great idea-or just a small idea, as you have just said- are enough for creating works like these. I take that kind of responsibility more than serious, you know, not only for the people who will watch those movies but also for myself.”

He really sounded like an artist. Mercedes wondered what kind of movies he produced, whether it were thrilling Blockbusters, Sci-fi movies ore Romances.

“What’s more exciting in life?” She wanted him to know that she understood him.

Suddenly, he looked down sheepishly. “Me and my pretentious speeches. Sorry, I probably sounded kind of conceited.”

“Not at all. I liked it. Someday, I would like to watch your movies.”

Their glances met, and suddenly, the atmosphere in the car tensed up weirdly. It was so intense Mercedes looked down the dressbag and started playing with the zipper, and Sam seemed to find the scenery outside interesting all of a sudden.

Anthony had never talked like that about his job. Yes, he was also passionate about his work, but for him, it was always about the fame and the success, how he won prizes and how people would beg on their knees to get a selfie with him one day.

She turned back to Sam. “It was nice of you to give my mom your sweater.”

“She was freezing”, he said, shrugging. “I was just worried about her.”

“At the end of the day, that thing is advantageous.”

“To be honest, that sweater is important to me.”

Mercedes needed to think about something. “Did Jasmine give it to you?”

Sam looked at her weirdly. “Yes. It was a present, she knitted it for me.”

“A woman with a lot of talents” Mercedes sighed deeply and was sad for some reason. “You do love her, right?”

He nodded.

She stared out of the window. Well, it was crystal clear now: Sam was already taken.

For a while, nobody said anything, so she looked at the scenery outside. Unbelievable how green Italy was, other than New York. A couple of hours ago, they were covered in snow, but now, it was so warm she had to put off her jacket. Her lids became heavier and heavier. She would close her eyes for only a couple of seconds…a couple of seconds, yes, that sounded good.

…

She didn’t want to wake up. It was so comfortable, she was curled up on a warm place, and if she woke up, she would land in her cold reality again, and that didn’t sound so great. Only a couple of minutes more…

“Mercy?” It was the voice of her mother. “Wake up, we stopped.”

Reluctantly, she opened her eyes. Silence. They were indeed not driving anymore. She needed a couple of seconds to realize that she was leaning against Sam, and she had put her arms around his torso.

“Oh!” Startled, she straightened up. “I’m so sorry!”

“No problem”, he hummed, kind of amused. “Great that you rested a bit.”

Quick, she brushed back a strand of her hair and prepared herself for looking into Coralee’s face. The dress was still on her lap, so they were over the hump. But when she was looking out of the window, she noticed that they were not in front of her sister’s luxury hotel.

“Where are we?”, she asked. That’s not where Coralee lived.

They were in front of a brick building, probably a townhall or something. Hopefully, she didn’t snore when she slept. Anthony had never mentioned something like that, but today was not the right time to start snoring.

“Does the wedding take place here?”, she muttered and rubbed her eyes.

Sam looked just as confused as she felt. “I don’t think so. Kurt?”

When Kurt didn’t answer immediately, Sam asked: “You don’t look good, shall I drive this time?”

“There is…there is something I need to tell you”, Kurt finally said without looking at them.

Mercedes got a bad feeling about it. “Which is?”, she stuttered.

“When you talked to Coralee about the dress…” Kurt paused and looked down the gravel on the ground, having paled all of a sudden.

“Spit it out already!”, Mercedes hissed impatiently. “Please”, she added when Phyllis threw her a stern glance.

“Well…when we were at the place of Alexandre’s relative…the dress…”

“Yes, yes”, she cut him off. “It was pretty shocking, but we got it right in the end, there is no single chocolate stain on the dress anyway. Please don’t tell me you are still disturbed because of that? You just should have told me; I could have driven for a while as well instead of you.”

“It’s not that.”

Silence.

“What the hell is it, then?”, Mercedes wanted to know, eyes narrowed.

Kurt sighed deeply. “It’s the wrong dress.”

…

 **Hours left until the wedding:** 21 **  
Miles left until Venice:** 82

“Shoot me. _Now._ ” Mercedes expected that she would faint any moment.

“Excuse me?”, her mom said tiredly. “How can it be the wrong dress?”

“It just is”, Kurt muttered.

“Bro, that’s just bitchin”, Sam commented.

Kurt just rubbed his temples.

“Are you sure?”, Mercedes asked him insistently.

He nodded, downcast. “It’s not Coralee’s dress. It’s one of our models from our storage.”

Mercedes gripped the seat in front of her tighter. She would have loved to cuss right now, but the words got stuck in her throat. She was at a loss of words, actually. So she just opened and closed her mouth until her mother turned to her, worried.

“Mercy? That’s unlike you, being so quiet.”

“For god’s sake, why didn’t you say anything!?”, she yelled after she was able to talk again. “We were on the way with the freaking _wrong dress_?!”

“Take deep breaths, darling, that helps”, her mother said, laying her hand onto Mercedes’ trembling shoulder. “Let Kurt explain.”

Phyllis looked at him, saying in a by far softer tone than Mercedes: “Why didn’t you say anything sooner?”

Kurt shrugged, crestfallen. “I didn’t know it myself until I saw Vanessa in that dress.”

“Vanessa?” Phyllis was confused.

“Alexandre’s granddaugh…nevermind”, Mercedes explained shortly.

“But that was hours ago, my friend”, Sam commented.

“Yes!!!”, she whined. “We could have flown back and get the right dress, but it’s probably too late for that now.”

“Poor Coralee” Her mother sighed. “She is already nervous because of the wedding.”

“Don’t even remind me of that! You better should make a U-turn with the car and drive towards the other direction _in high speed_ , Kurt, because none of us can _never ever again_ come near Venice. Like, _ever._ ”

“Erm, well, some of us would like to drive to Venice.” Sam had leaned his head against the pane, accepting that he probably wouldn’t arrive at his destination that soon.

“Well, okay” Mercedes looked at him angrily. “But I think that you have to wait until we have solved our small problem. We are all in this together, _right_ , Kurt?”

Sam looked as if he wanted to answer her back, that all this wasn’t his fault, but another pissed glance of Mercedes let him close his mouth again.

“I think I solved the problem”, Kurt said. “Can I explain?”

Mercedes crossed her arms. “You will sew a new one in time?”

“The right dress is on the way”, he explained.

“How!?”, Mercedes yelled irritatedly. “Will a _carrier pigeon_ bring it!? Or a fucking _hot-air balloon!_?”

“Mercedes Seraphina Jones!”

“Sorry, mom.”

“It’s on a plane from Paris to Italy and will be fetched by a motorbike courier who will bring it to us. After I recovered from the shock after having seen Vanessa in that dress, I had to make a few phone calls.”

“With Antoine?”

Kurt shook his head as it was an absurd thought, and for some reason, she got more pissed. “With Geneviève of course. She searched for the dress and found it.”

“Where?”, Mercedes wanted to know.

“Oh, it was at Antoine’s apartment all the time, but not at the spot he had told me.”

“That’s why you were such a pain in the neck lately!”, Mercedes blurted out. “Now, everything makes sense.”

“Mercedes!”

“Sorry, mom. But Kurt, you should have opened the dressbag and check whether it was the right one. I mean if Antoine’s room is full of wedding dresses…”

Kurt nodded and raised his hands in surrender. “Yes, you are right, I should have checked it first, and I don’t get why I didn’t do it. But you know, it’s unlike Antoine to store dresses at his apartment. And the dressbag was exactly at the spot he had told me, with a name tag saying your sister’s name.”

Why should there be Coralee’s name tag on the wrong dress? There had to be a reason for that chaos.

“So why should I check whether it was the right dress?”, Kurt added.

“I understand”, Phyllis said with a friendly smile. “I’m sure we would have acted like that as well.”

Mercedes opened her mouth to answer her back but noticed her mother’s warning glance and kept her mouth shut.

“So the right dress will arrive in Venice before us?”, Sam asked.

“No.”

“Okay, where else?”, she wanted to know.

“Here.” Kurt took a deep breath. “In Verona.”

“We are in Verona?”, Mercedes repeated. “What? And why exactly in Verona?”

Kurt rubbed his neck sheepishly. “It was… the only way.”

Mercedes didn’t believe a word he said. She narrowed her eyes and looked at him skeptically. “You talked about Verona all the time- are you sure this wasn’t planned or something?”

“No!” Kurt turned around and looked at her with a pleading glance. “I swear! But when I looked at the map, I figured that Verona is practically on our way anyway. It’s only a detour of thirty minutes…or something like that.”

Those thirty minutes were added up to the thousands of minutes they had already lost.

“And…”, Kurt added.

“Yes?”

“There is something else I wanted to do now that we are here. It doesn’t take long, and the timing is perfect.”

“I already told Coralee we will be in Venice in three and a half hours.”, Mercedes remembered him.

“It won’t take long, I promise.”

They all got out of the car, her mother seemed to have troubles getting out, but with Sam’s help, she finally did it.

“My friends”, Kurt said solemnly. “I’m afraid I used that situation to turn something negative into something positive. Strictly speaking, into two positive things.”

“You need to give us a hint or something”, Mercedes answered tiredly and looked at the old building. “What is that place?”

“An auction house”, Kurt said as if it explained everything. “I wanted to go to this place before Antoine told me to accompany you to Venice.”

“Really?” Mercedes looked at the building closer. “And why?”

“Of course because of an _auction_ ”, he said enthusiastically. “And as I have said, our timing is perfect!”

“For what?” Mercedes’ mom looked at him expectantly.

“For a vintage gown of Charles Frederik Worth!”

Mercedes gasped for air. Did she just get that right?

“And not just any dress, it was one of his earliest and most influential works. A piece for true collectors. I thought I wouldn’t be able to get here in time, but luckily, I was wrong. The auction is starting any moment!”

Mercedes just couldn’t believe it. “Gosh, Kurt, why didn’t you say that earlier? Screw that wedding, let’s go to the auction!”

“Mercedes!” Phyllis shook her head but was laughing anyway.

“Sorry, mom.” She turned back to Kurt again. “Can we see it?”

“Of course, it will be showcased inside. Ever since I fell in love with fashion, I wanted that dress for my collection. It made an impact on my time at college and during my occupational career, and I saved a lot of money to be able to purchase it one day.”

“How much would spend on such a dress?”, Sam asked. “Hundreds of Euros?”

Kurt’s face expression told them that it was by far more than that. And Mercedes knew that Charles-Worth dresses must cost at least 10 000 bucks, probably more than that at an auction.

“A little more than that, I’m afraid. Maybe ten, twenty thousand or more.”

Sam gasped for air. “For just a dress? With that money, you could nourish a third world town for a month!”

Mercedes threw him a regretful glance. “Thanks for the guilt feeling.”

“Sorry.”

“Pardon me”, Phyllis spoke up tiredly. “But there is another dress we should worry about.”

“Which other dress?”, Mercedes asked before it came to her mind again. “Oh! Coralee’s wedding dress.” Charles Worth's gown let her forget about the dress of Décoste immediately.

Just at that moment, the noise of a motorcycle's engine made them all turn around and they spotted a motorbike courier in black, a big box on his back from afar who came closer and closer.

Mercedes gripped her mom’s arm excitedly. “Whether it’s him?”

“I think so.” Kurt smiled. “There comes the bride.”

“Thank god!”, Phyllis called out.

“About time”, Sam muttered. “I can’t believe that only a dress is worth all the trouble, bro. Such a detour, only for a garment.”

“Sam”, Kurt said patiently. “In the past days, you were, like we put it in England, as firm as a rock. And you have every right to be angry, but you need to understand that there are things in life that are worth searching for.”

“If you had told me, I would have insisted anyway that we drive to Verona”, Mercedes explained and looked at Sam as well. “It’s about staying true to yourself, right?”

He threw her a pensive glance and Mercedes would have loved to grin triumphantly. “Gosh, suddenly, I don’t know what dress to find more exciting.”, she said breathlessly. “The one I admire for years or the one my life is depending on?”

Kurt laughed. “Look, I will just bring your mother to a good place in the auction house while the two of you can take the box. This way, we can…how do we put it? Oh, yes, kill two birds with one stone, like you say it in America.”

So they parted ways. While Kurt and Phyllis entered the building, Sam and Mercedes waited for the courier.

“You are not that forbearing with the fashion industry?”, Mercedes asked with a grin.

“Sorry”, Sam answered “I will try more in the future.”

She was about to say that it wouldn’t matter anymore as they wouldn’t see each other again after they had parted ways but stayed silent. The courier got off his motorbike and walked towards them while he took his helmet off.

“Bonjour! Buon giorno! Hello!”, she stammered, excited. “A delivery for Antoine Décoste? Or Sergio Bellucci? Or maybe Kurt Hummel?”

“Kurt Hummel?”, the man repeated.

“Yes!” Mercedes clapped her hands delightedly and pointed at the box. “Wedding dress?”

The man shrugged; he probably didn’t understand her.

“Here comes the bride?” She hummed the melody of the wedding march.

 _“Une robe?”_ , Sam tried, throwing Mercedes an insecure glance. “That’s the French word for dress, right?”

“ _Oui, une robe”_ , the courier answered, relieved that at least one among those weird foreigners seemed to be sane. _“Pour Monsieur Kurt Hummel.”_

 _“Oh, oui. Merci beaucoup !”_ Mercedes was so hyped up right now.

The courier retrieved a pen and the delivery confirmation and handed it to Sam. “ _Monsieur Hummel, s’il vous plait?”_

“Ah” Mercedes sighed and looked at the direction of the auction house. She had no idea where Kurt was.

But Sam just nodded and quickly signed the paper with unreadable signs.

“Merci.” The courier put down the box.

Mercedes elbowed Sam. “Just look how carefully he has secured the box.”

“Of course”, Sam said with a smile and elbowed her back.

She checked the name tag on the box – Coralee Jones. Perfect.

“Thank you very much! _Grazie! Merci beaucoup!”,_ she shouted after the courier who had already driven away with his motorcycle.

“Calm down a bit”, Sam muttered. “He just does what he gets paid for.”

“And contributed to that my sister won’t bury me alive – no biggie.” But then, she looked at him, serious. “We got the right dress, Sam. They didn’t switch it for the second time, right?”

“You wouldn’t be able to survive that. Neither would I.”

Mercedes tugged him towards the building. “Come on, let’s search for mom and Kurt.”

“Shouldn’t we put the dress into the car first? We could put it onto the car roof.”

At that, Mercedes glared daggers at him. “I would rather put _you_ onto the car roof.”, she said warningly. “We will somehow find a place.”

After they had put the dressbag onto the other one in their car, they went to the salesroom. Which was already full of people which were all wearing expensive sunglasses even though it was getting dark outside, ancient carpets and valuable oil paintings that must be centuries old were decorating the entire room.

 _That’s so Italian_ , Mercedes thought. “I thought this auction was just for dresses, but it seems that other items will be auctioneered as well. A gown of Worth should be worth its own auction, right?”

“Frankly speaking, no”, Sam answered. “Come on, let’s get this over with.”

Mercedes rolled her eyes. Alright, if Sam wanted to be fed up, _just go on_. But she would see an original, exclusive _Charles-Worth_ -dress any moment, for crying out loud! And if Kurt was successful, she would spend the rest of their ride to Venice with exactly that dress and _two_ (!) Antoine Décoste dresses on the backseat!

This couldn’t get any better, could it?


End file.
